Suboptimized

By S A Palmer

It’s an obscene amount of money for a global tournament, and player Jay2517 is on the cusp of securing the top prize.
Although he’s an expert at simulated combat, a separate server will test Jay like never before. When he discovers digital bioforms in his class project, the line between bot and life gets blurry, as they’re less than agreeable to many of his commands. Despite his efforts, a faction looks to destroy themselves, along with the rest of their sapient brethren.
Jay and his team will need an elite performance against the fanatics, but it might not be enough to save one of them, let alone billions.

• Language: English
• Publisher: S A Palmer
• Release date: Mar 5, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005040208

S A Palmer

SA Palmer lives and writes in Mesa, Arizona. While Douglas Adams was a big influence on his writing, it is only a coincidence his debut novel (Suboptimized) is forty-two chapters in length.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Thirty-five against four. Not exactly the odds he’d envisioned.

Suez dusted the sand off his wrist display and sent out a quick sonar pulse to track enemy movements. The cavern’s walls and ceiling rumbled from the distant explosions, and he considered his next move.

What’s the play, captain? said Luci, his second in command. She slammed a new clip into her assault rifle and peered down the scope.

There’s a sniper’s nest about a click away from here, Suez said to Luci and the two remaining grunts under his command. If we can take them out with a grenade, we’d have their fortification.

Aren’t we already in a fortified position? Can’t we just stay here? asked the newest recruit. His head swiveled after every mortar shell impact, no matter how close or far away.

Suez rolled his eyes. We’re in a hidden position, but we’re sitting ducks here. It’s only a matter of time before they find us and cave in the whole place with us inside. He glanced out the crack in the wall that led to the canyon riverbed. Now’s our chance. You three lead, and I’ll take the back.

The squadron activated the goggles on their helmets, protecting them from the sand swirling in the narrow canyon. One by one, they emerged from the cavern, squinting to adjust their view with the bright sun overhead. Instinctively, they trained their weapons to the top of the canyon wall towering above them. Satisfied they had emerged undetected, the squadron hugged the rock face as they crept forward, Suez bringing up the rear.

Any hostiles coming up? Luci asked on the private communication channel.

Suez tapped his display. The red dots pinging enemy locations had faded from the last pulse. Sonar is resetting. Keep your eyes peeled. We’re flying blind right now.

The faint staccato blasts echoed around them as the battle raged farther down the canyon. If they could get the jump on the soldiers up ahead, they could improve their odds. They were equipped to deal with most formations and tactics, except one.

Suez froze in place. The percussive blasts reverberated through the canyon, but that wasn’t the sound he focused on. It was faint, but he detected a low-frequency buzz from above.

Hey guys, you hear that? he said into his headset.

Hear what? Luci replied. She and the others continued ahead, not seeming to sense the danger. At the top of the canyon wall, loose dirt and gravel spilled over the side.

Get for cover, you scrubs! Suez sprinted back to where they had been, leaving the others behind. He doubted he could make it to the cavern, but they had passed a mounded bunker less than a minute before.

Missiles rained down from the top of the canyon wall. In a cloud of fire and dust, Luci and the other two soldiers disintegrated in less than a second. At least it was over for them quickly.

The mech reflected the oppressive sun, with every square inch of the hull protected by red metal armor. It descended from the canyon’s top, the thrusters on the bottom of each leg slowing it to a safe speed. Recognizing the buzzing of those thrusters was the only reason Suez had survived, unlike his incompetent squadmates. The mech landed with a thunk on the powdered remains of his unit.

Suez didn’t look back as he sprinted to the bunker. With his standard assault rifle, he had no chance against the armored behemoth seven times his size. If it had lost visual contact with him, he could sneak around it. That hope faded when automatic fire echoed throughout the canyon, bullets whizzing past.

Before the mech could lock on, Suez scurried to the back of the bunker, a reinforced mound jutting out of the dry canyon floor. He leaped through the open hatch and secured the door behind him with the heavy bolt.

Inside his dark, cramped space, Suez looked at the lit-up readout on his wrist communicator and weighed his options. He still had the EMP, and that would disable the mech. He could only use it once, but he didn’t see another choice. He unstrapped the EMP from his leg and pressed the button to charge it. The light on the rectangular device transitioned from red to green, indicating a full charge.

Without hesitation, he pressed the button on the side, and the invisible pulse emanated from it in all directions. His ears rang from the rumbling frequency, but otherwise, he was unharmed. Any mechs within the blast radius would not be so lucky.

Suez waited a moment and put an ear to the wall. The plodding footsteps had ceased, but no other noises were evident either. He hadn’t heard his opponent’s mech crash to the ground, but maybe that sound had been covered by the noise of the EMP itself.

Tentatively, he reached for the hatch and unbolted it with a ka-chunk. He poked his head out of the bunker and tried to find the remains of his opponent. The wind whistled through the empty canyon, and the eerie calm weighed on him. The mech should have just collapsed after that blast. The EMP didn’t have the power to vaporize.

After beating the odds and surviving this long, a single shot from above was the last thing Suez heard. He didn’t register what had happened until it was too late.

He yelped as he teleported into the white space, his troubles in the battle long gone. In the instant of elimination, the Sigorat server had sent him to this featureless room to give him the match summary and disconnect him.

He had never left his bedroom, but it would take a while to disconnect his mind safely. A melancholy orchestral track played in the background, and Suez shook with rage at hearing the song of defeat yet again.

Snipers! Of course! he shouted to nobody and hurled his assault rifle away. As it clattered on the ground, the gun blinked out of existence, and the other game assets unloaded from his avatar. Every time it’s fucking snipers.

Of course, the only reason he’d lasted long enough to get sniped was the enhanced hearing mod he’d equipped before the match. While illegal in elite play, his work-around made it undetectable to the moderators. Maybe a future patch would take this away, but he felt no need to put himself at a disadvantage.

Before leaving the intermediate space, he pulled up his game log to look at his stats from the match. He scrolled to the bottom to find the name of interest, one he had seen far too many times in the past.

Eliminated by Jay2517.

* * *

On the other side of the city, Jay removed the white immersion helmet from his head and blinked slowly, his eyes adjusting to the dark of his bedroom. He and his team had squeaked by with the victory, despite some mistakes from his teammates. They held the top position on the elite leaderboard, just in time for the regional play in a few weeks. They could take some time off and still be assured of a spot in the qualifying round.

He sat in front of his multi-station, with his keyboard and a myriad of other controls laid out before him. Sigorat required only the immersion peripheral and gloves, but his station gave him the tools for communication, schoolwork, and much more. The hardware curved around to his right side, leaving his left open to slide from his seat.

A notification flashed on the large screen in front of him. A communication request from a player not on his team. Jay had many rivals, but he didn’t recognize the moniker Suez.

He slipped on his headset and opened the chat. The screen displayed an audio notification, no video.

Uh, hello? Jay said into the microphone. Your video feed isn’t working, just so you know.

I suppose you were proud of that, weren’t you? said the uncanny voice broadcasting through Jay’s headphones. The rumbling baritone didn’t sound like a real person.

Proud of winning? Jay asked. Well, sure. That’s why we play. By the way, Suez, how did you get my contact information?

Sure, just camp and shoot off easy kills, Suez said, ignoring Jay’s question. Picking on low-level players must make you feel so big and proud. You didn’t even let me emerge from the bunker before your cheap shot.

Oh, that was you? Jay recalled staring down his sniper scope at the hapless player at the bottom of the canyon. Well, if you keep making rookie mistakes, I’ll keep taking advantage of them. Sorry.

What mistakes? Suez growled.

Jay rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. I’m not one to give advice, but this fact is so fundamental I’m sure one of your teammates will bring it up anyway. Everyone on the map can detect your EMP, genius. I was just the closest when you set it off, and it led me right to you.

Suez didn’t respond.

My teammate was too smart for that anyway. Jay was still wearing his control gloves, and he idly pulled them off his hands, loosening one finger at a time. So that you know, our mech controller She-fa had you trapped. But she wasn’t just going to stick around and get an EMP blasted in her face.

You prick.

Suez, there’s no need to be hostile. Jay sighed. "I was in your shoes not long ago. You just have to level up and get more experience with Sigorat."

What if I just found your house and took a hammer to your multi-station?

Well, that sure escalated. Jay checked that his chat was recording. He’d be covered if the conversation took even darker turns, and it would provide compelling evidence for any game moderators looking to censor toxic players. Keep talking. I’d love to hear more of your witty banter.

Suez disconnected from the call. The audio notification disappeared from the screen.

Jay opened his settings and blocked Suez from any more direct communication. Reporting him to the moderators wouldn’t be worth his time, so he didn’t attempt to save the temporary audio file. Instead, he started a new communication.

Call Kalah, he said into his headset.

Kalah, his second in command, attended the same academy as Jay, one year behind him. Strangely enough, they hadn’t realized they were classmates until they had already played several matches together. An avatar rarely looked the same as the player’s real-world appearance.

Nice job, captain, Kalah said as her face appeared on the screen. Her dark brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail.

Random question, Jay said. Have you heard of a player named Suez?

Should I have? Kalah asked.

Yeah, never mind. I just had a lovely conversation with one of our opponents. He took offense to my level of experience.

How dare you be good at something. You should be ashamed of yourself. Kalah smirked and shook her head. Anyway, how are we splitting up the grand prize in a few months?

Getting a little ahead of ourselves, aren’t we?

"Our Sigorat team is in the top three worldwide, Kalah said. This isn’t some lofty goal. It’s very doable."

We actually peaked to number one after that match. So, yeah, even if we fall later, we’re up there. Just don’t buy anything on credit before we finish this thing.

Still, ten million would be a nice haul for the team. We’re still going to split it evenly, right?

That would mean one million credits apiece for the ten players on the squad, which sounded a little more impressive than it was. With the recent currency change, ten credits bought a candy bar while eight hundred purchased a new game download. Still, a million credits were nothing to sneeze at.

Yeah, an even split sounds fair, Jay said. Everyone’s been with us since the beginning. Even if you and I carry this team, we wouldn’t be this far without everyone else.

What would you spend your share on? Kalah asked.

In the push towards the grand prize, Jay had neglected to think about what he would do with the windfall that awaited him. He supposed some or all of it could go to his college tuition. He didn’t delude himself into thinking he had a chance at merit scholarships, so the prize money was his best shot at paying for higher education.

Once, Jay had entertained the notion of playing Sigorat and other games professionally, but the mental reflexes faded fast, even among the best. The elite-tier players tended to be around the same age group, with university-aged competitors a rarity.

Jay knew his window for elite competition would close in a few years. Sacrifices had to be made to get to the top of the Sigorat leader-boards. His formal education had simply become another casualty along the way.

Chapter 2

The academy Jay attended was a newer campus with all the modern conveniences. This premier academy employed the latest technology, with digital workbooks connected directly to every professor, and the lab equipment rivaled that of small colleges.

The bell chimed, signaling the end of class. Jay hefted his bag and left the room where his natural and synthetic history class met twice a week. He had the seat closest to the door and always departed first. The school day was over, but the real work would begin when he got home.

The match that had ended in the confrontation with Suez was weeks earlier. Jay had heard chatter on the message boards that Suez and his team had barely qualified for the regional championships. Some squads had leveled accusations of cheating against them, but Jay didn’t concern himself with that. His team was still secure.

Jay idly flipped through the notifications on his communicator. The model was a few years out of date but still worked fine.

As promised, his professor had sent the instructions for the term project. The assignment itself would be installed later on his multi-station console. Masdah annoyed Jay like no other professor at his academy. While some teachers would just leave him be, Professor Masdah made it a point to get everyone involved in the discussions. Jay was happy with his perfectly adequate grade and was not about to laugh at some dumb jokes or put in one more ounce of effort than necessary.

A short walk to the hypertube station and Jay would be on his way home. He pocketed his communicator and made a beeline for the door.

* * *

Jay’s bedroom was stark and simple: bed pushed against one wall with his multi-station dominating the room’s opposite side. His private space consisted of nothing else other than his dresser and an extra chair. Drawing his curtains over the picture window created the cave that helped him focus during his pregame rituals.

When he returned to his room, Masdah’s little present had arrived as a notification on his multi-station. The standard download had already made space on his interface, but he wasn’t inclined to open it anytime soon. He’d wait until right before the deadline, slap something together, take his C grade, and be happy with it. He had the same plan for all his schoolwork. His tournament play in Sigorat took priority. He and his team needed a victory either tonight or next week, and Jay wanted to take care of business as soon as possible.

He swiped away the notification from Masdah and went to boot up Sigorat. His system usually ran as smooth as butter with almost no lag time. However, this time the game wouldn’t open. When Jay selected it with his gloved hand, his system sat idle.

Not again. Jay sighed. Probably another connection issue. For a game with over five million players online at a time, these kinks happened occasionally. A restart would likely fix the problem, but it still annoyed him.

Before he could reach below his keyboard to restart his system, a voice emanated from his speakers.

Hello, Jay.

He hadn’t given any voice commands to open communication, but he could have sworn the voice of his professor was filling the room.

I know you’re there. Open the face-time so I can see you.

Yeah, it was definitely Masdah. He’d recognize the dry, sleepy tone anywhere. This annoyance had to be dealt with quickly. He couldn’t miss the connection window for the Sigorat match, and he was already cutting it close.

Good evening, Professor Masdah, came the tired reply from Jay as he opened the face-time app.

The image of the middle-aged professor filled the screen. The bags under his eyes gave him a permanently tired look, which contrasted with some of his more animated and tangential lectures in class. I meant to catch you after class, but the look on your face after my bout of instruction made me realize you were not in the mood for more of me.

Yeah, I guess you could say that.

I just wanted to see if you were having any technical difficulties with your multi-station, Masdah said. Perhaps a game not running correctly?

Jay had to catch his jaw from dropping in surprise. How did you—?

There’s a little change to the coding of your assignment. Masdah remotely opened the term project for Jay to see. I’ve been working on it for a while but finally got the approval of Headmaster Benten to implement it. Your system is now locked out of nonessential functions. The term assignment contains code to ensure your completion by keeping you out of distracting programs.

You hijacked my system? This can’t be legal.

Masdah responded by sharing a copy of the agreement Jay had signed when he enrolled at the school. The professor highlighted the clause outlining the academy’s ability to amend software and systems for higher learning.

Any questions? the professor asked with a deadpan expression.

"But the Sigorat matches tonight are for the regional qualifiers. These only come around once a week for the yearly championship."

Masdah stroked his chin as if deep in thought. And?

What if I just get some time tonight with it deactivated? We need this victory.

Sorry about that, kiddo, Masdah replied. Even if I were sympathetic to your plight, there’s nothing I can do. Unless I reprogram everyone’s assignment and resend it after weeks of revisions, that is. Trust me, you missing your precious matches in the virtual death stadium does not move me to tears.

They’re combat arenas, not death stadiums, Jay mumbled, almost as a justification.

Anyway, the assignment is pretty lenient. It just requires a little work every day. Then your system frees up, and you can relieve your stress. I also took the liberty to resend the instructions if you lost the copy you got in class.

Thanks. Jay still wasn’t going to read them.

The program is user-friendly. If you’re half as good at Socurat as you claimed that one time in class, you should get the hang of it quickly.

He opened his mouth to correct the name but thought better of it.

I’ll see you tomorrow. Best of luck on your first encounters. Masdah disconnected, and the video screen went dark.

Jay stared at the notification flashing on the screen. His mind raced as he tried to think of a work-around or hack, but he couldn’t chance it. Perhaps Masdah was monitoring his progress remotely, waiting for him to slip up. While he could handle detention, a loss of online privileges would spell the end of his Sigorat domination.

He messaged Kalah with the bad news. After getting off the line with her, he selected the term assignment. Hopefully, it would be over before they completed the qualifying match. Maybe he could jump in before the cutoff time.

Masdah’s project sprang to life. The lack of a title screen struck him as strange. All that appeared was a black void with a single option flashing front and center. Jay put on his headset and his standard gloves for texture controls. If this required anything more complicated, he’d be surprised.

With his index finger, he selected Begin.

Small, bright dots populated the dark screen. Not all at once, but with some variation in brightness. Like ripples on a pond, they scurried away from each other. Then Jay saw the dots go blurry and lose focus.

Actually, that last part was his eyes glazing over from boredom. To be fair, he did consider it one step above paint drying. At least it had some kinetic movement.

Is this seriously all this thing is? Watching little lights dance around the screen?

He adjusted the microphone on his headset to try some voice commands. He would be damned if he just stared at it for an arbitrary amount of time before it released his system.

Zoom in.

The program picked a spot between two of the dots with nothing but a black background. Jay could have sworn he’d looked at one of the dots directly when he gave the command but couldn’t be sure.

Exactly, I wanted to see the big void of nothingness, Jay quipped. But just for variety, zoom in on one of the obvious glowing balls.

If the program could detect sarcasm, it didn’t let on. One of the dots came into view. It wasn’t just some random object but a glowing ball of energy.

So, they’re a bunch of fusion reactions? Jay asked into his headset.

Text and a soft female voice responded to his query. Correct. Would you like data on the elements involved?

Jay leaned back in his chair. Sure. Why not? He wasn’t going to figure this out tonight, but he could at least learn something about the simulation. Maybe it would make his system unlock faster.

The reaction centered on his screen fused the lightest elements into heavier ones. It was just like the reactions happening at the power plant outside town or in the center of a bright star. Jay puzzled over why this merited a class project to explore. The mechanics and application of fusion were common knowledge and had been taught to his class three levels earlier.

He spent the rest of the session looking at different energy balls, noting differences in the starting and ending elements of fusion. As the minutes stretched to hours, he worried how his Sigorat team would fare without him.

* * *

Lesser competitors often avoided the narrow paths leading up into the mountains. The under-leveled Sigorat players stuck to the canyons or kept to their perch in a sniper nest, hoping to remain undiscovered.

But Kalah had moved on from those rudimentary tactics. She’d need every trick at her disposal to lead her team to victory in this disaster of a match.

Kalah? It’s Syris. Where are you?

She tapped her earpiece twice, sending the code to her teammate that she’d respond later. Kalah poked her head out