Delicious Zeal: Moderation Online, #3

By Michael La Ronn

The mouthwateringly cool science fiction trilogy comes to an end with a full-tilt story that will keep you on the edge of your seat.

Kendall & the Vegans are stranded in the ancient grain desert, and all seems lost.

 

Sodius and his processed foods are one step away from destroying the world. It's going to take a miracle to stop him.

 

A miracle is just what the team needs, and one is on the way.

Delicious Zeal is the third and final book in the Moderation Online series. You won't believe how it ends. Click now to buy your copy today!

 

V2.0

• Language: English
• Publisher: Author Level Up LLC
• Release date: Feb 1, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386334224

Michael La Ronn

Science fiction and fantasy on the wild side! Michael La Ronn is the author of many science fiction and fantasy novels including The Last Dragon Lord, Android X, and Eaten series. In 2012, a life-threatening illness made him realize that storytelling was his #1 passion. He’s devoted his life to writing ever since, making up whatever story makes him fall out of his chair laughing the hardest. Every day. To get updates when he releases new work + other bonuses, sign up by visiting www.michaellaronn.com/list

Book preview

Chapter 1

EARTH, North America, 2067

---

We’re making progress, Dr. Overton.

The patch manager, Kira Banks handed Dr. Peter Overton a report.

You can take this to your board, Kira said.

She folded her arms with satisfaction. Her nose ring glinted in the sterile light of the programming room. All around, programmers typed away on computers and watched screens that monitored the world of Moderation Online in strings of code.

Dr. Overton paged through the report to an executive summary.

In essence, we are making progress.

1. The processed foods’ hold on the world is weakening.

2. Humans are beginning to understand that processed foods are evil, through our covert programming efforts.

3. The vegetable terrorists continue to work on their mission. A human, Kendall Barnes, is among them.

Dr. Overton nodded as he read the statement.

He sighed with relief, though he was still tense.

At least now, maybe he'd be able to give some good news to the hospital board, to the patients’ families, to the press.

This will help, Dr. Overton said. But how will you build on this?

Our programming efforts are working, Kira said. We’re reverse-engineering the virus by targeting and altering as many AIs that we can.

A 3D model of Parson, the new vegetable king, appeared on screen. The parsnip grinned, holding a scepter and wearing King Carrodias’s ceremonial golden crown.

An unfortunate setback has been that our efforts to alter vegetable AI has created some vulnerabilities that the virus is exploiting, Kira said.

Damn, Dr. Overton said. That's bad, right?

Kira shrugged. Depends on how optimistic you are.

Dr. Overton looked around the room.

It was hot—a too many people in the room kind of hot—but the programmers looked content. They weren't stressing out like the last time he was here. Though maybe they were stressed last time because he chewed them all out.

I'm glad, he said. I was starting to worry.

Tell the board not to do anything drastic, Kira said, tapping on the report. This is the picture of progress.

Dr. Overton returned to the report.

Help me understand these—is this really what they're called…Cubes?

Someone in the room laughed.

It just sounds silly, Dr. Overton said.

Would you rather us have called them Logic Extraction Points?

Huh?

Everything humanity makes has seams of some kind, right? Clothing. Computers. Cars. Start pulling at the seams, and you can get to the heart of whatever it is you're constructing. Follow?

Yes, I understand. Even the human body has seams, if you wanted to push the analogy further into my territory.

Kira snapped her fingers and pointed to a programmer. Someone entered a rapid set of keystrokes, and lines of code appeared on the master screen at the front of the room. It looked like a rainbow, and against the black background, almost magical.

We can't hide certain things in the game. All of our AI and programming has to be stored somewhere.

Got it. So the Cubes are liabilities, huh?

The virus commandeering the Logic Extraction Points would be akin to them debugging and rewriting the entire game. But worse, they would be able to do damage to our servers, where all of our files live. Additionally, they would be able to compromise your life support systems, putting the lives of your patients in danger.

They would be able to play God, Dr. Overton said.

God, Kira said. We never thought of it that way, but sure.

Dr. Overton gulped.

He shut the laminated report and smiled.

Well, good luck, Kira. And let’s keep those Cubes out the processed foods’ hands, shall we?

Dr. Overton, I'm so sick and tired of being sick and tired of all this bullshit!

Jamilla Barnes cornered him outside the programming room. She carried a purse over her shoulder, was dressed in a work uniform—looked like a bus driver or some kind of government worker. A security guard accompanied her and waved his hands in apology.

Dr. Overton sighed as Jamilla Barnes approached. Her long dreadlocks were tied into a ponytail and she had the look of a woman who hadn't slept in days. Her makeup was slightly run.

Dr. Overton put on his best face and smiled, tucking the report under his arm.

Mrs. Barnes, what a pleasure.

No pleasure in this, Jamilla said.

I know, Dr. Overton said. I can't imagine how hard it must be to be without your husband, Kendall—

You have no idea, Jamilla said. And I have every attorney in the city lined up to sue you into jail. But I can't because the game is still locked.

Threats.

Not the first he'd heard.

Nor the last.

How many patients’ families had said the exact same words.

It was like all the city’s attorneys were circling outside the hospital like sharks, waiting for first blood. But even they were too scared to take any legal action for fear of impeding the programmers’ progress. If that happened, all the patients might die. But the moment the game was back in the programmers’ control…

Maybe there'd be hell to pay.

Maybe not.

I know you want a status, Dr. Overton. But I truly can't give you more news that wouldn't infuriate you.

Try me, Jamilla said.

Dr. Overton pulled the report from under his arm.

I shouldn't be showing you this, but I am happy to.

He shared the details of the executive summary. While he spoke, Jamilla had a glassy look in her eyes, like she was listening but not really caring.

So, it's clear to me, based on this report, that your husband is safe and in no apparent danger. Furthermore, our programmers are closer to unlocking the game world once and for all.

Would you just listen to yourself? Jamilla asked. "You're so clinical. Do you have any idea what I've been through? I've had to take on a part-time job just to put food on the table for my kids because they don't have a father. I don't know how I'm going to pay for his medical bills—"

Jamilla, as we discussed, the hospital will not be charging you for Kendall’s stay, as an apology. You will only have to pay for his heart attack treatment, and I am sure they will cut you a discount after all you've—

You just care about getting me out of your face! she cried. "What if this was your wife? What if this was your mother? How would you feel if you couldn't connect with them. What if you were in the same room with them, holding their hand, taking care of them, and they were in a completely different world, and no one could do anything about it? How would you feel, Dr. Overton, if the only solutions were patience? Just wait a little while longer, sir, and maybe you'll get your wife back. Huh?"

Dr. Overton frowned.

Mrs. Barnes, what else would you have me do?

WHACK!

Jamilla hit him on the arm with her purse.

Start by destroying that virus!

This hospital had already spent nearly a billion dollars combating it. How else do you suppose we go about this?

You could start by showing me sympathy. You don't give a damn about me or any of the other patients’ families!

Not true. And I'm sorry if—

WHACK!

This time, the purse hit him on the face and knocked his glasses off.

The security guard grabbed Jamilla and pulled her back.

I want my husband back! she shouted. Bring him back, Dr. Overton. Bring him back. Bring him back!

Dr. Overton picked up his glasses and rubbed his cheek. He dropped the report, dazed. He unfolded his glasses and put them back on his face.

We’ll ban her from the premises, the security guard said.

No, that's too aggressive, Dr. Overton said. Mrs. Barnes, I understand your frustration, and quite frankly, that blow was deserved. I'm doing my best and I will continue to fight for your husband’s safety.

Bring him back! she screamed. BRING HIM BACK!

SLAM.

The swinging doors to the programming ward shut, and the guard pulled Jamilla away.

Dr. Overton rubbed his face.

God, it was getting worse.

All of it.

Mrs. Barnes was one of the more pleasant encounters he'd had all week.

He bent down to grab the report.

Then he walked through the ward, into the hospital proper.

He stopped at a window.

He was one the twentieth floor. Outside, the skies were sunny and full of cumulus clouds.

Below, on the lawns just off the hospital property, was a field of protestors. They carried signs and megaphones, and Dr. Overton could hear their muffled cries.

KILL THE VIRUS ALREADY!

PUT THE DOCTORS IN THE GAME!

A line of police officers on horses held the dissenters back. The air was tense.

For the last six months, Dr. Overton had had to come to work in a bulletproof car, and he'd been assigned a private bodyguard at home to protect him, his wife, and son. He couldn't go out in public.

None of the doctors or hospital staff could.

Late-night television hosts made jokes about the hospital—how this game, Moderation Online, was the biggest joke and worst medical experiment of all time.

One in particular made him shudder every time he heard it.

There's something I want to know, a suited host said from behind a desk, "who in the hell thought this was a good idea? This Dr. Overton guy wakes up one morning and thinks: Let's hook a bunch of people up to a video game and that will prevent them from having heart attacks? Are you kidding me? Here at the Midnight Show we decided to use a bit of that sage wisdom. We decided to hook up our staff to a computer to make them better employees…Let’s talk to them to see how things went…what's that? They're stuck to the computers and we can't save them now? Ah, well, guess we better just cancel the show. Seriously, we ought to strap those doctors to a machine and put them in the video game, see how they'd like being trapped."

Furious applause filled the studio.

It bothered Dr. Overton how many people wanted to see him in pain.

When he was just trying to help. When the world was on the verge of desperation. If he didn't do something, more people would have died. Had they forgotten that?

The media riled the world up, and if he didn't do something, he was either going to end up dead or in jail.

He thumbed through the report again, reading every word.

Then, he made his way toward the patient ward and did what he had been dreading all day—he gave the patients’ families updates on his progress, one by one.

Chapter 2

QUINOA, The Ancient Grain Desert

---

Kendall looked out the window of the Gourman cruiser. The brown sands of the desert below glistened in the heat of the day. The expansive dunes were quiet.

Kendall was glad for quiet. Just a few hours ago, the desert was at war—him and the Vegans, the sand Gourmans, the ancient grains, and that crazy provolone.

Things were just getting weirder and weirder, like his whole reality was going through a sausage grinder.

He felt a cool, air-conditioned breeze on his face, turned around and took in the ship.

Much better than that TV dinner blimp.

It had originally been designed to carry cargo, but the interior was empty, leaving a lot of room for everyone to find a space.

Brocc was lying on a bed of crates, taking a nap; Celerity and Geoffrey were playing cabbage rummy; Lady Duxelle and King Carrodias were at another window, looking out over the sands.

In the conical-shaped bridge, Frank piloted the ship.

How you doing over there, Frank? Kendall asked. Need me to take over?

I'm fine, buddy.

You sure? I can fly this thing, I know it. Controls are much easier. I could—

I got it, Frank said. Why don't you take it easy?

Kendall sighed, then snapped his fingers.

Dang, man. I want to carry my weight. I just feel useless, like I should be doing more.

You've done enough, Frank said. We wouldn't have gotten this ship without you.

Brocc, who was laying on a set of crates, waved a hand.

Relax, Kendall, he said. It's called re-energizing.

I thought you were asleep, Kendall said.

One eye open, Brocc said, opening an eye. One eye open, Kendall.

Then he closed the eye and put an arm over his face.

Kendall still wanted to do more. Ever since he'd found the human settlement, Moderation, he'd wanted to keep fighting.

He was on a streak, and he wanted to keep going, punch those processed foods in the throat and teach them for fooling him!

He snapped his fingers again and strolled over to Celerity and Geoffrey, who were still playing cards. An unlikely pair, they were engrossed in a game.

Kendall grabbed a crate and slid next to Geoffrey.

Ha haaa, what's up, people? Need ‘ol Kendall to show y’all how to play this game?

Quiet, Celerity said. She drew a strawberry joker and threw it away.

I'm calling cabbage, she said.

She slapped down a set of kings down on the floor, followed by a run of two through eight, and a pair of queens.

Pity, Geoffrey said, revealing a set with a four of cabbage, four of asparagus, a four of endives, and a four of spuds. Then he laid out a set of deuces.

How the hell! Celerity asked, frustrated.

My, a pleasant turn of events, Geoffrey said, smirking.

You sure you don't play that much? Celerity asked.

I assure you that I had more important things to do as the Chief Scientist at the Nutrizeen Labs.

Kendall looked at the cards.

Damn, girl, he said. Geoffrey steamed you.

This game really is one of deduction, fortitude, and that grand sport of all sports: arithmetic, Geoffrey said.

You counted cards! Celerity said.

It's not illegal, my dear, Geoffrey said.

I couldn't count even if I tried, Kendall said. But you're a genius. What's it like to have all that intelligence in your head?

Geoffrey shrugged.

Kendall clucked his tongue.

I bet if we opened up your lid, there'd be a bunch of IQ points, scientific theorems, mathematic equations, and a bunch of bananas. Ha ha haaaaa!

The bananas part is apt, Geoffrey said, but you are quite mistaken about the other contents that are swimming about in my head.

Kendall scratched his temple. Uh, there's something that's been bugging me and I gotta know the answer.

Ah, the grains in the desert. I suppose I owe you a thorough explanation, don't I? Geoffrey asked.

Not that.

Caulette, then? The super food conundrum is rather troubling.

Naw, I think I'm good on that.

Then what?

Kendall started to speak. Then stopped. Then started. Then stopped. He leaned over, then started. Stopped. Scratched his temple. Said uhh a few times.

"You're a