Devil's Waltz Page 2

  Darius inwardly sighed. Like Vincent, Derek enjoyed excessive verbosity. Some people loved the sound of their thoughts. They were the most irksome to deal with, but Darius had plenty of practice. “The second solution?”

  “We.” Derek paused, eyes dramatic, and refilled his tea-cup to the brim. “Delay that, and for now…” He drank the whole cup with a single swallow. “Announce that we, meaning the AI, planned for player World Bosses the whole time and this was a surprise!” He banged the cup onto the glass.

  Darius was thankful neither the cup nor the table cracked. Such a showman. Yes, he was a perfect figurehead, and he could use his brain rather well for that was a plausible temporary solution. Stalling strategies were always useful. “How do you think the playerbase will react to that?”

  Derek crossed his arms and laid a thoughtful expression on Darius. “I think they’ll love it.”

  “And all the current complaints?”

  “About it being unfair?” A bushy eyebrow rose. “Well… life is unfair, and we’re aiming for realism. And it can easily be justified by saying only those who’ve worked for it may ever achieve boss status.”

  A fair explanation. It could work, except there was one small detail. “Black worked for it? He was but a level one this morning. I recall he had significant help from… Ms. Howe.” He was about to unwisely say Ms. Roth. Unwise even if that last name was somewhat common. Her familial status with inner-circle members was a sensitive topic.

  After a thoughtful pause, Derek stroked his beard. “Yes, I was hoping that it wouldn’t too much of a problem, but if you say it is…” He frowned. Lips pursed. “Hmmmmmmmmmm.”

  Darius swallowed a chuckle. “Don’t worry, we have all evening to think it through.” He took a sip of tea. “What’s your third solution?”

  Derek held a stark gaze for ten seconds, then a low voice he said, “A rollback.”

  He couldn’t be serious! “You’re making a joke.” If the AI controller rejected a directive like that (which it most surely would), a manual rollback would take weeks if not months to implement.

  “I am not. If the players are unable to accept that a few of them will be far more powerful than the rest, we will have to issue directives to remove player bosses. There’s no other choice.” He helped himself to another cup-full, leaving the pot almost empty. “Mmmm. Good tea.”

  Verily it was. Green tea mixed with a hint of vanilla extract, maple syrup, and ginger had helped Darius trudge through the most stressful situations, this included. As the company’s chief, it was grueling, highly-demanding work, but he reveled in it. He had been born to dictate and lead from the top. He knew that since his college days; team projects without his leadership always ended with sub-par results by his standards. Darius was an ideal candidate to make sure Aeon Chronicles Online was a viral hit before launch. So, so much was on the line—much more than just a game. Those pods eventually needed to be installed in every household. It was for the masses’ own good. Multiple alternate reality worlds were coming down the line once all the tech kinks were hammered out.

  “So,” Derek said, “what do you think we should do?”

  “Option three can’t be allowed,” he said automatically. It was obvious.

  “Option two then? I don’t see the original plan working.”

  Darius grunted an affirmation. “For now, we should go with a mix of option one and two, stating—”

  Quick, uneven footsteps drummed in the corridor. Out of breath, Edgar Wilson fumbled into the office with a paper printout in hand. He was a mid-level Order member and the lead engineer who’d helped develop the AI technology, and he was rather old fashioned. “There’s an emergency,” he wheezed as he collapsed onto a chair.

  “Emergency?” Derek blurted. “Did the server crash? A real hacker?”

  Remaining silent, Darius let the man regain his breath. The first thing to do during any emergency was to calm down else irrational, stupid choices could be made.

  “Player trapped in a torture chamber.” Edgar shoved the scrunched paper onto the table, and Darius swiped it before Derek. He was a nosy man, but that curiosity which few had was an added value to his character.

  The printout was a player-status report generated by the AI, outlined a high level Paladin’s location, character details, physiological status, mental state, and other relevant information. His name was Jonathan Lee, lived not too far from this region of the globe, and by the looks of his two failed subscription payments, he was from a lower class family. Darius skipped the character details, finding the physiological status section labeled as ‘Very healthy’. Technical details below were skimmed over by his trained eyes.

  The subject which Edgar was likely alarmed over had to be the… location… and mental status. The former was labeled as ‘Personal Purgatory’, briefly explained as Jonathan’s worst memory replayed ad nauseam. A memory of… Rowan Black murdering Max Dubois. Fascinating. Additionally, Jonathan’s mental status was labeled as ‘Distraught but growing stable and strong’. The technical details section beneath was empty. Most fascinating.

  Darius kept his expression masked, his respiration consistent. Just what was happening here? Was the AI psychologically conditioning the kid? He scanned the page twice more before passing the sheets to an eager Derek. He’d already been briefed on Rowan’s background, and he was sworn to the Order’s oaths. Any betrayal would result in his immediate disposal.

  “Are you certain this is correct?” Darius asked.

  Edgar nodded shakily. “Yes, yes. I quadruple checked and checked the system for errors.”

  “What do you think—”

  “Whoah!” Derek exclaimed, almost jumping from his seat. The paper further scrunched, unreadable now. “How did this happen? Can he log out?!”

  “Yes. He can still log out. Thank god.” Edgar wiped his shiny forehead with a handkerchief.

  Darius said, “But the report claimed he’s been logged in since breakfast.”

  “Logout functionality is unaffected. I confirmed manually.” Edgar reached for the empty tea pot.

  A bit of good news, Darius allowed. Logout was on a hardware level separate from the AI controller. Multiple software and hardware fail-safes had been implemented, and even if a player was trapped inside, all it would take was a disconnection of electrical power or network availability.

  “Wait wait wait,” Derek said incredulously. “It says he sought out a dragon boss and asked for this willingly. This can’t be right.”

  “It’s right,” Edgar said. “I cross-checked with some of his friends’ statuses. The report’s story adds up.”

  Darius couldn’t stop a chuckle from bubbling up his lungs. Was he purposefully reciting lines from a crime drama?

  Nevermind, that didn’t matter. All that mattered in this minor ‘emergency’ was making sure this Jonathan fellow didn’t cause a mass scare among the sheep. Again, too much was on the line for one person to cause a panic. Not a good panic like Rowan was causing. There wasn’t a single way to spin a mental torture prison into something advantageous. All the hatred would be directed at Synaptic Entertainment.

  “What do we do?” Derek asked. It was beyond his expertise.

  Edgar nodded. “We have to intervene. This could result in a lawsuit if enough people find out.”

  “That won’t happen.” Darius shook his head, a plan already formulated. “Firstly, if the failed payments are correct, it would indicate Jonathan is from a poor background. Easy point of leverage—buy him out or threaten his family with financial ruin. Secondly, he sought this out of his free will and can still log out any second if he wishes. Quite objectively, it was his own doing, and the AI, which we have limited control over, granted his desire. Thirdly, I suspect this has something—”

  In his suit pocket vibrated his Holo-Phone—two quick thrums and a split-second intense shake. A message from an inner circle member. Darius hooked out the phone and activated a limited-viewing-angle holographic display. The messag
e was from his brother Vincent, and it was a real emergency.

  Vincent Roth: Rowan is in critical condition and won’t be able to login for at least another 24 hours. I miscalculated.

  Unfortunate. Very.

  Beneath Vincent’s was one from Gabrielle twenty minutes earlier, but it had been sent from inside virtual reality. I hadn’t triggered the phone’s alert. That had to be a bug. Poor quality control.

  Gabby LeMort: Where’s Rowan?

  “What happened?” Edgar asked.

  Leaning back into the office chair, Darius deactivated the phone and closed his eyes. He wished for more tea—and perhaps a splash of scotch mixed in. “Rowan’s…” He breathed through his nose as he considered next words, tongue packed against his palate. Sure, they needed to know what happened; however, it was best to not further add to their stress levels with alarming linguistics. Words held power. “He’s unavailable until tomorrow morning. Don’t worry, it’s nothing serious.”

  Their alarm was skillfully suppressed though not invisible.

  Whistling, Derek scratched his cheekbone. “That’s at least a week in-game. I don’t think Gabby can hold by herself even with her new class. She can’t create any combat units or revive fallen ones.”

  Although the intricacies of the game hadn’t fully captured Darius’ interest, he did know what that meant. For some indecipherable reason, the AI had decided to contrast Gabrielle and Rowan’s abilities so that they were stronger when working together. She was to build their bases and he was to populate them and summon their army. The world event title said it all: ‘The Dark Couple Rises’. The AI’s intent was clear, but she’d never fall for a lowly peasant like him. But what would a lowly CEO know of young love?

  And she was a mere tier six boss. T6s were downed every other day according to Derek. She’d never hold that town for an entire week when the entirety of the playerbase was slinging their rage at her, and lapsed veteran players were starting to return. It’d be an uneventful, swift slaughter within hours if the other factions joined in. Only one course of action beckoned for Darius’ leadership at this crossroads. A highly-advantageous course.

  Knuckles tapped on the glass table. “Darius?” Edgar said. “Should we—”

  “Maintenance.”

  Edgar’s brows shot up, his wrinkly forehead compressing into a mountainous landscape. “Excuse me?”

  Derek coughed. “What?”

  “Offline maintenance. Twenty-four hours.” Was the order not clear?

  “Twenty. Four. Hours. Maintenance?!” Edgar stood. “Online services haven’t needed offline maintenance in decades! That problem has long been solved. How can we justify something like this?”

  “He’s right,” Derek said. “I don’t remember playing an MMO that had a single maintenance, and I’m thirty-six in two months.”

  “Say it’s because of the new virtual reality tech and the AI super-quantum-computer.” Darius shrugged, and a strategy pieced together before his vision. “Say the pods need firmware updates, which is true. And there a batch of directives that need to be pushed through from the last round of feedback. The masses will buy it.”

  Edgar pulled at his gray hair. “No! They won’t—”

  “The order is final.” Darius stood wore his most intimidating mask. He presented a minuet hand gesture of the Order’s inner circle. “As well as the chief of this company.” Naturally, the double-layered command overrode any and all positions they held. Darius had no choice but to exercise his absolute authority.

  They gaped. Derek recovered with admirable mental acuity. He clicked his fingers, pointing at Darius. “Let’s go with option two and just say Gabby and Rowan were like a set-piece and they ascended together. We’ll also say we’re using the time to gather feedback on player World Bosses. We’ll give further additional directives to make minor changes if needed.”

  Not bad suggestions. It was daring, but in times of potential disaster calculated boldness offered strategic diversity. “Do that.” Option one also argued additional plasticity, so Darius seized the risk: “Make an anonymous leak stating the real story is that Rowan exploited the subscription system and also abused a loophole, as per the plan. We can easily deny or confirm if needed.”

  “That’s genius. I’ll get on it.”

  “This is madness,” Edgar snapped. “We’re taking down a paid online service for twenty four hours.”

  Darius glowered at the man. What was Edgar’s problem? He was growing senile. Maybe he needed a checkup with Vincent. “Give them a week of free subscription time. A month if they’re still not happy. We’re giving away two months at launch anyway.”

  That placated him, although not entirely. He sighed a raspy breath, throwing up wrinkled palms. “Fine. Fine. Don’t blame me if everyone quits the beta.”

  They won’t. Not in a century. This is a technological revolution. The lamb-like masses just need a little bang for remaining heads to turn.

  “Alright. Good discussion.” Darius sat, then retrieved his phone once more to flick a message to the legal department regarding Jonathan. A simple pay-off for his valiant efforts as a tester would do. “Get it on it, please.”

  They departed, and Darius strolled to his private kitchen for some more tea. Today was something else, and it wasn’t even over. A couple more hours until employee dismissal remained. He would have to work late into the night monitoring and directing the unfolding fiasco. Crunch-time.

  Oh, he hadn’t responded to Gabrielle yet. How rude of me.

  Chapter 2

  Talking Teddies

  Gabrielle Roth Allaire (Gabby LeMort) hopped out of a solo-dungeon portal, her Morgana’s Moccasins scuffing against the eroded concrete slabs. Almost twenty hours had passed in-game, enough for several dungeon runs, and Rowan hadn’t returned from his break. He was sure taking his sweet and sour time, doing whatever naughty boys do in that psychiatric ward. Surely he didn’t need to rest for so long when he was needed here!

  Grumbling in a bout of warm surging through her skin, she kicked a loose piece of stone with all her strength. It skipped across the mauve morning waters like a good rocky. In the distance, a tiny ripple ascended the town’s shield, indicating it took at least a few points of damage. It healed right back up—thanks to her new Advanced Shield Batteries.

  Two jiffies later, a series of cannonballs exploded against the shield with dazzling flashes of yellowy-white, chunking its healthbar by just under half a percent. The entire eastern face of the apple-shaped dome wobbled with undulating waves. The batteries took far longer to heal that up.

  And it looked like another battleship had arrived in the last ten minutes. A small fleet of twenty-three bobbed up and down within bubbles of light mana. The ships were of a type of whitish-brown wood, an enchanted mid-level teak or even a low-level balsa. Low-tier cannonballs too. Weak stuff all around. Pitiful DPS. The humans and Draco monkeys were short on resources across the board. Their joint kingdom had been on a steady decline since the start of alpha thanks to rampant mismanagement and corruption.

  Another round bombarded the shield—before it healed to full. It had only risen to 99.99%.

  Which meant… they now barely had enough lightpower to overwhelm the batteries in a sustained war of attrition. The shield would fall within two or three days, maybe less. Probably way, way, way less depending on the strength of their upcoming reinforcements. Nothing had shown via land or air—yet. Best to save Seth’s nuke ultimate for a last-minute stand. Or for an all-in.

  And another round flashed against the shield. Those cannonballs crafted from mana and common materials could be stored in a player’s inventory, and by the looks of that one bigger ship with three fancy masts and pretty sails, it was the command ship and also probably carried a spawnstone. They had a virtually infinite supply of ammo.

  Gabrielle’s supplies, however, were not. None of her hideouts were near a mine. Every resource location had been occupied by all the light players, and Zaine’s stock held mostl
y wood and stone. The town had little salvageable resources apart from granite. In total, she had enough for no more than seventy-eight Advanced Shield Batteries, which had been a godsend crafting recipe from an earlier dungeon run. They could connect to an area shield such as the spire’s and sported no cooldown after depletion; however, their throughput was abysmal, worse than the regular version by an order of magnitude. It was a cringe-worthy trade off.

  Movement in the far distance by the peninsula caught her eye.

  Crap. Crap. Crappity crap.

  Over ten more ships sailed into view, cutting through the waves with magically enhanced speed. Another command-ship. A zeppelin wafting overhead as well! Those fatty blimps dealt mighty, mighty damage.