Time Locked

By C. P. Clarke

Twelve players.
Two realities.
One game.

The world has changed. The only way to escape the New World Order is through the new concept virtual reality game Time Locked. This is VR like never experienced before, but once in, you can't get out.

The follow up to Stalking The Daylight. Kevin Crist's is long dead, but his game lives on. Now rebuilt and reinvented Crist's dream has been brought alive by programmer Karl Anderson using advanced virtual reality technology.
Twelve players agree to play the prototype as they seek an escape from the depths of the depravity the world has fallen into. War has torn the world apart, and the political structure has changed vastly in the space of a couple of decades, with the world carved up into Quadrants controlled by conglomerates.
As the players enter the game, they marvel at the realism of space travel and the adventures of other worlds.
They must travel through a wormhole to another universe to recover The Key to reset time and save the Earth from extinction. They must work as a team to survive, but a cash prize awaits for the one to return The Key.
The rules of the game are clear, but the AI controlling them isn't playing fair, and nor it seems are some of the players. Some have their own agenda for being there, and one shouldn't be there at all. Hidden behind their avatars, all the players have a secret to hide.
Keen not to die in the game they are keen to get out, but Anderson and his team are blocked from access, and time is against them as the programming proves to have a fatal flaw.

• Language: English
• Publisher: C. P. Clarke
• Release date: Nov 30, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223979227

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Prologue

What is this?

It's all I have left. Conway handed over the hard drive willingly. He didn't know what it was worth, probably nothing, and nothing was what he had left to lose. His paranoia had kept him alive but at what cost? Almost twenty years of lying and covering up for those who treated him as a puppet for their own misguided gain. Twenty years of burying the dead and the stories that circled round them. Twenty years of alienating his loved ones with his secrets and deceit. Twenty years of drowning in guilty and incestuous addictions as he abused himself in self-afflicted punishment, daring the authorities to take away his esteemed position in the hierarchies of the intelligence service, wanting to be disgraced, wanting to be abandoned.

The world had changed so much over the last couple of decades, and not for the better. This was the New World Order, and he was ashamed to have played his part in its creation.

Twenty years it had taken for the ghostly conglomerate that silently controlled the world to release him from their grip. Not that they would go as far as end his pain. No, instead they preferred to torture him. To keep him dangling on a string as he financially ruined himself, forcing him to sell the last of the secrets still in his possession. Some would die with him, but others, the tangible ones, would go at a fair price. He even wondered whether it was the organisation themselves buying back what they already owned just to prolong his agony, or maybe to dress it up as another shrouded mystery as they birthed another cloak and dagger experimental campaign. Either way, twenty years was more than he could bear.

It's old.

I know, I acquired it a long time ago.

It's virtually antique. They don't make hard drives like this anymore, he said turning it over in his hand and stroking the smooth flat surface. What's on it?

Conway shrugged his shoulders.

I thought you might be interested in it. The person who owned it before was a game designer like you. He was a genius, ahead of his time with his ideas, so much so that the government saw it necessary to confiscate his work. This is all that remains.

If you're lying to me...

You know where to find me. If it's not what I claim then feel free to come back and beat me to a pulp for your money back. But think about it, why else would a dick pencil pusher like me at the high end of my career claim to have a hard drive from a gamer, unless there was something of worth on it.

Anderson looked him up and down suspiciously then nodded, took the hard drive with one hand and passed over an envelope of cash with the other.

One thing before you go, tell me, who put you onto me? Who told you I had this to sell?

No one, James, you came to me, remember.

Part One

The Simulation Of Everything

Game Disclaimer

Thank you for agreeing to participate in playing Larcorp's newest high level prototype game: Time Locked.

This game and its original concept is the brainchild of Karl Anderson of VCG (Virtual Concept Games), now a subsidiary company of The Larcorp Corporation.

Karl Anderson spent years developing the game, using the latest technology to create a virtual reality gaming experience unrivalled by any other console on the market. Larcorp's patented technology breaks new ground in first person gameplay, bringing you to the console and into a universe where you are the master of all you observe. Take control of alien worlds as you fight to save your own.

Each of our participants are carefully selected and vetted by LES, our advanced AI system, who monitors the suitability of all players, assesses the control measures and adapts the environment and sophistication of each players' experience. His or her individual profile is generated from the entry-level questionnaire of the applicant and collated through their social media and online transaction activities.

Each level is played and monitored at our Colorado facility, on the rebuilt site of a power station near the ex-military base at Cheyne Mountain. From here, LES and a highly skilled team of programmers and medical practitioners ensure each player’s complete safety.

For the initial launch to the public, the tried and tested prototype, a one of a kind virtual reality games console, will be initialised, linking all players via a secure web portal so they can join together as a team to battle alongside each other.

VCG are developing a mobile unit of the game for future use. This will be disseminated to the varying quadrants to improve local gameplay with greater numbers. As the first to play the prototype we require you to provide a review before its worldwide release. We hope you will recognise the further applications of the game from playing in small scale. Eventually it will be marketed to a wider audience, who will play as part of a larger army, able to choose sides to fight alongside, while the onboard AI learns more about the universe created by its players.

Forget everything you know about first shooter games, team combat scenarios, and the graphics of other console based and virtual reality concepts. This is something completely different and on a whole new level.

Warning:

Time Locked is an 18+ rated game. No one under this age is permitted to play.

This is a realistic game. LES ensures a completely smooth transition from the real world into a unique virtual universe with no adverse side effects or feelings of vertigo or nausea. However, anyone who has a genuine concern for their health or has an undisclosed medical or psychological disorder should not play this game.

This game involves fantasy violence and requires the player to be a first person participant in such violence. Due to its realistic nature, it may not be suitable for those of a nervous disposition. Although, as a company VCG has incorporated LES to vet each player, neither VCG nor The Larcorp Corporation takes any responsibility for any effects to mental or physical health caused by playing this game. Participating in 'Time Locked' is at the gamer’s own personal risk and the makers take no responsibility.

Game Instructions

The Earth is dead, destroyed by the unauthorised use of 'The Key'. Survivors exist in a militarised zone beneath the surface of the frozen wasteland of the planet, trying to rebuild a civilization decimated by the wormhole that has ceased the Earth's momentum within the stars. The planet is beyond saving as it is slowly drawn by the gravitational pull of the wormhole.

To add to the misery and complication of the relief effort, a deadly virus is eating away at the remnants of survivors. It is an incurable disease which appears to send its victims on a bloodthirsty rampage.

The only hope of survival is to retrieve 'The Key',  reset the time code, and erase what has gone before. The problem is 'The Key' was part an experimental project designed by the Transcend Space Project, a privately funded corporate venture backed by all the major world space agencies. The project's aim was to design a device to open intergalactic travel through space, an experiment which worked but with unforeseen consequences. It cost the planet dear. The Key to resetting the mistake has been lost aboard the Transcend Space Project's flagship scientific vessel, Odysseus, which was sucked into the unknown far-flung corners of space through the wormhole it opened, and through which nothing has ever returned.

A band of survivors have been selected to undertake a desperate mission to travel to the other side, find the Odysseus, recover 'The Key', and return it to Earth.

The unknown awaits all who pass beyond the wormhole.

Your mission: to locate, identify, and retrieve 'The Key'. All else is inconsequential to these main objectives.

To win the game you must return 'The Key' back through the wormhole to Earth in order to reset time and save the planet. Failure to complete the mission leaves the Earth locked in this time variant with no hope of survival for the human race.

For this initial version of the game all players are on the same side, and you must work together as a team to achieve your goal.

Ideally, your whole team should complete the game. However, should a team member die in the game, they have three chances to regenerate by another player reaching a revive point. If more than one player has lost a life then the remaining players must decide which one player is to be revived, as only one player can be revived at any revive point. Players not revived will be placed in a practice zone awaiting reintegration into the game. Any player who dies in the game three times will exit Time Locked and it will be game over for that player. The game will continue until all the players are either dead or have completed the mission.

Time Locked can be played in continuous motion indefinitely, or until your player dies three times, or you complete your mission.

A player can time-out for rest periods/comfort breaks. (The future version of the game will allow for gamers to place their character in hibernation mode or standby mode to re-enter the game at a later point.) In this initial game, all players will play in real time with time-outs permitted for periods of up to eight hours which will place your avatar in a stasis, or sleep mode, within the game.

Credits are awarded to players upon completion of each level. Credits are also awarded for completing certain tasks within the game. Some credits are awarded to individual players and others can be won for the team. Credits take various forms and are designed to help players succeed within the game. A numerical credit runs as a tally for each player and contributes to a share of a financial reward upon completion of the mission. This can be applied for to The Larcorp Corporation upon exit of the game. For this initial launch event, the financial reward for completion of the mission is set at one million New World credits.

If at any point you wish to exit the game, each player is issued with a virtual panic button which will immediately pull you out of the game. This is a one-time use button. Once you exit you cannot return. Only press this button if you are sure you wish to exit the game.

Time Locked is fully monitored by LES and our team of technical and medical experts. Anything you say as your avatar within the game is recorded for your protection. If you wish to speak to the control centre, simply say LES listen... followed by your message. LES can respond in a number of ways within the game to any concerns you have but cannot help you in any way to play the game itself.

LES (Living Earth Simulator) is an advanced AI developed to simulate all life and every scenario. LES has been adapted to create other world scenarios in an imaginary universe based on data and information collected through science and popular culture. LES learns as you play the game. Therefore, no two players share the same experience, and every time you play the game your experience will be different based on your previous encounters within the game.

Once you enter the game, you and your fellow players are alone to play the game.

Select Player

All players may select an avatar to play from a selection of templates programmed within the game. Each avatar has certain characteristics attached to its profile: brave hero, reluctant hero, medic, intelligence officer, scientist, commander, infantry, technician, strategist. Choosing an alien or enemy opponent is not currently an option in this version of the game.

In addition to the character type, you can choose which current Earth quadrant your character originates from and its background. For example: if you are from the Latino Quadrant you may wish to change your ethnicity to the African Quadrant, likewise an Eastern Block Quadrant player may choose to come from the Great Western Quadrant. A wealthy Sub Asian Quadrant player may choose to become a Northern Quadrant player and vice versa. Your native accent and appearance will be adapted in gameplay and all players will communicate in the international language of commerce and communication as recognised by the technology industry for computing and gaming. LES translates languages automatically so that every player's thought processes are neurologically transmitted into the common language of the operating system. This feature is built in as a safety measure to ensure adequate communication with the monitoring control centre.

Your personal profile will be added to, and merged with, your chosen avatar so that your character will react intuitively to how you would. For example, if you are a timid person and you have chosen to be a scientist, your avatar's character and experience will be tailored to a timid scientist. Likewise, an aggressive person choosing to be a commander will result in an aggressive commander. To experience the game to its fullest you should choose a character which best suits your personality so that the AI system can tailor your experience to your natural reactions as the story of the game develops around you. Choosing to be a cowardly hero when your personality type would better suit infantry, or choosing to be a technician when you are not technically minded will not confuse the AI as it will adapt the game around you, however, your experience will be conflicted by the juxtaposition of your character traits. To help you decide which character to choose as your avatar, LES will suggest which characters are best suited to your personal character profile.

If you choose to alter your character's quadrant or ethnicity, your skin tone and facial features will be subtly altered to blend in with your chosen profile.

There are two further options in choosing your avatar: android and cyborg. Once you have chosen your preferred character you will be presented with these two options. If they are greyed out, someone else has already chosen them and you cannot select these characteristics for your avatar. In each game there can only be one android and one cyborg. You will not know which of the other players is an android or a cyborg. There are positives and negatives to choosing these options which will become apparent within the game. If you choose either of these options, you have the choice of whether you tell your team players or not.

Level Selection Process

Game status:

Personal data acquired and assessed.

Character selection complete.

Virtual sensor suit...intact

Virtual sensor gloves...intact

Cyclops Vision headset...engaged

Player 1...accepted

Player 2...accepted

Player 3...accepted

Player 4...accepted

Player 6...accepted

Player 7...accepted

Player 8...accepted

Player 9...accepted

Player 10...accepted

Player 11...accepted

Player 12...accepted

Players prepare to enter the block...

Part Two

ENTER THE GAME

The Block

Sabil's eyes flicked open with sharp pain shooting back to the crown of her head and splintering around to her temples. A fluorescent light above her head flickered with a slight buzz. Listening to it, other sounds drifted in as she heard others waking to the same grey environment of the block she found herself in.

She raised her hands to her face, her body horizontal on the hard bunk beneath her. The black mask of the virtual viewer was gone. So were the spiked and rippled gloves, and the rubber body suit. Her brown fingers stroked her face, her features feeling familiar, if not exact to her own, having opted for her character to remain largely unchanged for the purposes of the game. She squeezed at her cheeks hard, pulling them for flexibility and tugging them hard enough to feel pain. She marvelled at the realism of it.

It's impressive, no?

Sabil sat up at the sound of the voice. In the dormitory were twelve beds arranged in two rows against the walls. She was at the end of the room farthest away from the heavy, military-grey metal door, which was firmly shut flush to the wall.

A large window was opposite in the middle of the wall but served little purpose or cheer for the room. It stared out at a wall of pressed dirt where the makeshift cabin had been placed into the shaft of the crudely cut underground chamber.

Unfamiliar faces were waking and rising in the same fashion she just had. She focused on the male sat on the nearest bunk smiling at her. He looked like he came from the Mexican Quadrant. She smiled back at him.

Davvid, he said with a hand to his chest as way of introduction.

Sabil, she replied.

They both looked around to the others, ready to introduce themselves to their teammates, but there was no time. The door burst open and a beefy, well cut jarhead, with stripes on his shoulder beneath a short blond flattop, entered and started barking instructions.

Mission crew of the Hermes, grab your bags and follow me for mission briefing.

Sabil looked around and down like the others until they each located their assigned pack beneath each bunk. She grabbed hers and fell in line behind Davvid as they filed out of the room with the soldier leading the way.

The twelve players made their way silently along a number of dimly lit corridors winding solemnly downwards into the depths of the underground shelter, or compound, or base, or city that denoted the start of the game.

It was not what Sabil had expected. The scanty details they had been given about the game levels left much to be imagined. The developers were keen to keep their guinea pig players in a dark cloud of suspense. It worked. She was excited, expectant, and eager to experience it to the full. Filling in the application online to play the much-publicised demo game, she hadn't thought she had any chance of getting through the selection process. Now she was here in the game she had every intention of seeing it through to the end.

No one spoke as they followed their military lead. They all wore the same grey jumpsuits, their black holdalls hanging low by their knees as they walked. No signs, no markings, no points or sockets of technology were evident anywhere along their route. All was bland, adding to the anticipation of being thrust into the fray of the mission ahead.

She assessed the strength of the team as they walked along.

Eight men and four women made up the team, including herself. She was one of the tallest of the women. Only one other rose above her height, equalling that of the majority of the men. The taller woman was young, athletic, and blond, or so she seemed from the rear. Of the other two women, neither screamed out anything of note. Of the men, two were of a considerable height and one appeared vertically challenged. He too seemed to be from the Mexican Quadrant like Davvid, who seemed amenable in both height and appearance.

She shook her head. This was a game. She had no idea who these players were or where they were from, nor whether their avatars reflected anything of the real persona of the player.

They slammed to a halt as the dominoes fell in line, squeezing them in close together as they pulled up outside a double door.

Welcome to The War Room. This is mission control. The Sergeant thrust open the door with a dramatic swing of his arm.

Lights and sound assaulted Sabil's senses as the buzz of activity inside beckoned them in.

***

Tom was unimpressed with the opening sequence of the game and was already seriously regretting his interest in playing the trial version. If he was to invest further into its development, then it would have to improve hugely.

The doors opened, the virtual Sergeant stepping aside to allow him his first view of The War Room. His expectations were less than satisfied.

Tom had hugged closely to the Sergeant as they'd filed out of the holding room, wanting to assert his leadership from the start and be recognised for his chosen role as Mission Commander. To his disappointment, he had been ignored and treated no differently from the others in the team. Maybe this was simply the programming and the soldier before them had no concept of their characters, just an NPC guiding them from one room to another. Surely things would be different once the mission briefing began.

Tom knew, in part, the complexities of LES and knew well the social sites where much of the personal information was drawn from. He expected his avatar's status to be elevated with the respect he was due.

He stared into the bustle and lights of mission control, which contrasted to the drab dampness of the corridors they'd traipsed through. Disappointingly, it didn't contain any new surprises. It was exactly as pictured in countless other computer games.

The room, a long, wide hall, had no windows but the tall ceiling had ducts and vents trailing channels of electricity cables and hot air above their heads. Monitors sat on desks manned by attentive, uniformed soldiers, and personnel in white coats denoted the scientists maintaining the infrastructure of equipment. It was hard to tell who was in charge: the military or the techs? He surmised they were probably one and the same: military scientists under military state control.

As they filed into the room, a large display screen at one end of the hall lowered automatically. The Sergeant led them towards the screen where twelve solid white plastic seats were moulded to the corrugated floor. Tom took his place on an end seat where he could see for the first time those in his team under his command. He eyed them suspiciously, looking each one up and down, ensuring they could all see him and know without a doubt that he was the one to revere and look up to.

As they all took their seats, he sensed their unease and inferiority shrinking back from him.

Internally he smiled. This was his mission.

***

This was how Kevin expected his employer's meeting to be run. These were the types of meetings he longed to be in but could only dream about until now. The game made all things possible and brought a sense of reality to his fantasies.

So far it was playing out as expected. He had envisioned the war rooms of the Defence Department convening for an emergency intelligence meeting to which he would ordinarily be barred.

He sat roughly in the middle of the horseshoe line of seats. Bustling, animated personnel buzzed behind them at and around desks hardwired to computer screens with unspecific information that blurred upon an attempt to focus.

He felt the tall well-built man from the Western Quadrant staring him up and down. He looked back and caught his eye. It was met without inhibition for the intrusion, causing Kevin's eyes to dip with an introverted timidity that cried aloud his weakness and betrayed all he'd hoped to portray within the game.

The roaming eyes settled elsewhere farther along the line of seats. Kevin berated himself inwardly, his head only shaking slightly but his face telling more than he dared admit.

He should be better at this. He'd dreamt of being part of this game since, well, forever. He was keen to explore zones within the levels where his reticent character could finally be shed.

A tall, dark-skinned male in khaki with stars on his shoulders entered from a doorway to the left and stepped onto the platform. He looked to be from the African Quarter, but his accent said he was from the Western, a southern drool lingering as he spoke. He held a clipboard in one hand and a pointer in the other which he clicked towards the giant screen behind him. It revealed the ringed logo of the JSC with a triangle encasing it all.

The Joint Space Commission had been rashly formed, he informed them with an air of total authority, to coordinate an emergency response following the collapse of world powers and the displacement of each quadrants population. Nationalities and boundaries no longer applied.

Kevin followed the plot easily enough, recognising the mix of reality and fantasy. Recent economic and structural collapse and reorganisation of world boundaries was still raw and it was no surprise the game was quick to capitalise on the grim scenario.

The General continued his summary, setting the scene for the adventure they were embarking on.

No formal governmental structure remained on the planet, or beyond it. Military rule was in force and coordinating with the few remaining scientists involved in the Transcend Space Project.

A rival governing body was forming on the far side of the planet away from the wormhole aboard a fleet of ships. These had either been launched or were already in orbit when the wormhole opened. The ships were keen to abandon the planet in search of an alternative home for the human race. They had plotted and planned for a far-reaching one-way voyage through our galaxy. The JSC saw this approach as a callous abandonment of the planet and were not prepared to give up whilst a hope remained of saving it.

Worrying questions had arisen about the disease and whether or not it had been contained on the planet surface, and if not, how it could be contained in the confines of a spaceship. There was also the worry of running out of supplies on a potentially never-ending journey, and the effects on a generation that may grow up knowing no different.

Many of the same concerns could be applied to the JSC's aspirations too, Kevin calculated. He was sure the General was aware of this, and purposely hiding the fact, or, in desperation, was in pure denial. He suspected the former was true. He'd seen this type of behaviour from the authorities before. He shook his head with an embarrassed smirk, reminding himself that the General was a programmed Non-Player Character and not a real person.

Centrally, beneath the African plains, a unifying government had been formed with opposing parties vying for power. Their tendrils seeped out to the remnants of the quadrants for support. All the political parties were weak, including the JSC, due to the practicalities of policing such distant societies. Many had been forced to find their own way in the bitter battle for survival since their homes had been decimated and they were forced to flee in all directions. Tensions were high and enemies sat on all sides.

Kevin wondered whether the game designers were trying to make a political statement. In the current climate that was dangerous, but maybe it was a tactic to gain quadrant funding.

The General went on to explain why the wormhole was referred to widely as 'Annie'. Its name was being denoted alphabetically as the first of its kind to be found. But, he added in a rare aside of humour, it was also the name of a cheating ex-wife of a military strategist in charge of convening a plan of action when it opened. His repeated use of the spiteful reference caught on, eventually becoming the commonly used name of the wormhole.

Kevin’s analytical mind calculated the odds of survival for the planet: disease, conflict, an unstable atmosphere and a drifting orbit in space, not to mention Annie slowly sucking the planet into oblivion. The odds were not good. No, scrap that, they were dire. If this was a real scenario, he would opt to board a ship to join the fleet ready to make a run for it. But this wasn't real, no matter how crazily alive he felt in this environment. Besides, his path was set within the game whether he liked it or not.

The governmental accountant’s mind did the math of him winning the game and achieving the goal of resetting the timeline to restore balance to the world. He looked at the team around him and shook his head doubtfully.

***

Corina tried to swear but found the game wouldn't let her. Whether it was LES's translation module or simply a facet of the game she couldn't be sure, but she repeated the words in her head a number of times to test it and each time her avatar refused to speak them aloud.

Great, the AI's a prude! she thought to herself. Probably programmed by a man with sexual hang-ups. She rolled her eyes and bit her lip.

She sensed someone eyeing her up. Damn perverts, can't even escape them in a virtual world, she thought, resisting the temptation to make eye contact with the roving personality trying to engage with her physical appearance.

She tried instead to tune back into the General's patter of pre-programmed explanation of the game and their mission. She hoped it wouldn't be much longer, she was keen to get started.

In space it has become a battle of strength. Those with the technological know-how and military might are taking control and forming military states under fair, but judicial, military rule. Some people see this as tyrannical or dictatorial. Others see it for what it is: protective, giving them a sense of safety and security in a universe thwarted with new and unknown dangers, foes and obstacles. Everyone, every lifeform on this planet, has a right to survival. We, the human race, are the ones responsible for the destruction of the Earth. Therefore, it is our responsibility to restore the balance. It is our responsibility to repair the damage. It is our responsibility to make things right!

Fat chance of that, thought Corina, if that egotistical ape at the far end is commander. If he tries anything, I swear I'm gonna cut his balls off!

***

Darren brushed his fingers through the thick clump of hair that flopped to the side as he dropped his head forward to retrieve his holdall from the floor. He unzipped it and examined the contents, assuring himself they were the same as described by the General. To emphasise his words, a list appeared on the screen and he visually checked off each item without removing any from the bag. Satisfied, he dropped the bag back down and tilted his head along the line to his right, to the team who were all doing likewise. A couple of them were lifting out items and examining them, but he felt there was no need. Experience had taught him he would know what to reach for when he needed it so long as he knew the items were there to begin with.

Their survival pack was how the General described it. Essential supplies. Keep it close. Once on board the Hermes there would be opportunity to store it in a password accessible chest which could be opened at any point within the game no matter where the team were. The team could also place anything inside the chests for safekeeping within the game as a virtual toolbox. This, the General insisted, was the safest place to secure The Key once it was acquired, Do not risk losing The Key by keeping it on your person where it can be taken from you. Once it is in your chest it is locked and secured until you return to mission control.

Darren nodded, resisting the temptation to cry out an affirmative in response.

The screen changed again, this time showing up a montage of images echoing the plight of the world. The wormhole hung above the planet as a spherical orb mirroring space, just not our space. An animated diagram displayed the distortion of the gravitational field and the decline of the Earth's rotation and its drifting orbit away from the sun. The moon seemed dangerously close, but the maths seemed to imply it would shift further away with each rotation.

Another image and another warning. Lifeforms beyond the wormhole were unknown. It was an uncharted sector of space. Everything was to be treated as high risk and hostile. Take no chances, and trust no one.

Darren mentally engaged with the firearm in the bag, disassembled it in his head, checked the ammunition, reassembled it, locked and loaded with the safety on. Yes sir, General sir.

He was ready to play.

***

What happens if the game glitches, or it's not what we expected?

The General ignored the question and kept to script. The Sergeant also ignored her. The rest of the team turned their heads with confused annoyance.

They explained all that before we entered the game, dear, explained Marin with a careful whisper. He wasn't judgemental, but his tone and expression spoke of a father gently correcting his child without trying to embarrass her.

Hermes has a tracking chip which can be activated from the flight deck by any team member, continued the heavyset General with the slightest of movement in his stature. "If you activate this function on the ship, Hermes will return to Earth with all team members still on board at the time. Any team members not on board will be left behind.

Victoria looked confused.

Marin whispered once more as he lent in towards her, If the game is still in play, anyone not on board will be left on the other side of the wormhole to continue searching for The Key.

Oh, thanks.

The General resumed, But the aim is to return The Key, therefore the chests also have a tracking chip. If you are in possession of The Key but have no access to the Hermes or the rest of your team, then your priority is to activate the tracker to return The Key and complete your mission.

Does that mean we can get out of the game anytime we want? Victoria asked with a hushed voice to Marin.

Marin gave her a frown of annoyance and then leant away to focus on the rest of the briefing.

***

Hugo read between the lines of a lot of what the General had said about the chests and the tracking chips, as he supposed the rest of the team had.

He, like the others, was slightly irritated by the immature questioning of Victoria, but then he had expected no less. She was the one he would have excluded from the game, but the Board insisted LES's programming be overridden to allow her to play to ensure her father's investment. He hoped it was worth it. She was, after all, the only one to fail the mental assessment and was calculated to be the most likely to drop out early.

He knew this section of the game, having been privy to the demo of the early graphics of the mission briefing. He had seen other samples of the early graphics also but without the context with which they were placed in the game. He was none the wiser as to how the game would play out. Admittedly, he had more insight than the others, but he felt like an explorer in an immense underground cave holding one long match at the entrance to light his way.

He marvelled at the final graphics and feel of the game and applauded the investment. If the feedback from the trial run was overly positive, then large dividends were sure to follow. He looked across to Victoria again. Somehow he needed to keep her in the game as long as possible so daddy would keep his money in.

***

The briefing was over. The General, without cracking a smile and with every sense of urgency and seriousness that his programming could muster, dismissed the team back into the hands of the Sergeant before walking off, disappearing through the same door he'd entered by.

The door closed with an echo and without any sign of pixilation.

The tallest of the females, a blonde with long straight locks, an immaculate complexion and curves to die for, stood ahead of the others and addressed the Sergeant with a demand for attention.

Excuse me, I have trouble remembering names. Would it be possible to ensure all the other team members have their names printed on their uniforms?

The Sergeant ignored her and held out a hand in gesture to another door which had opened up to the right of the screen. The other team members began to rise and, grabbing their holdalls, walked towards the door as requested.

Erm, excuse me, am I invisible!

As far as he's concerned, yes, you are.

She turned to the short Mexican behind her, her nose downturned with disdain.

Enrique ignored the obvious snub and tried to be pleasant to the beauty in front of him.

He's a simulation. An NPC. His programming doesn't allow for personal interaction. I expect the characters further into the game to react as the AI learns from our reactions, but this is entry level, the game hasn't even started yet.

Oh! So how am I supposed to remember all your names?

Enrique laughed before introducing himself, I am Enrique Diaz, maybe you have heard of me?

She looked back at him with dumbfounded silence.

And I suppose we should all know who you are? spat Corina, turning back with an instant aggression of dislike.

I am Sonja Nass. She said it with an air of finality that her name should answer any query they should have.

Corina shrugged her shoulders. So? She turned to walk off.

You don't know much about gaming? enquired Enrique.

I've played plenty of games, Sonja replied.

But you're no gamer, right? Don't worry, stick with me, this is my bullpen. We'll get to know each other fine and I'll show you what to do.

Great! Her tone and the expression on her face was one of wiping disgustingly greasy sludge from her palm.

Enrique ignored it. He was used to rejection. He carried on talking as they walked toward the door.

The game companies like a mix of people from all spectrums of life to play the game, especially for the trial demo versions. It allows them to market it to different sectors of society based on the feedback of the players. No doubt some of us will be used to games like this and some will not. I expect others are rich and from the business sector, and some will be the opposite. This is not just a game, it is a business, and it's designed to make money, lots of money!

I like money, said Sonja, spending it is a hobby of mine, she chuckled as their voices drifted out the door.

***

Tim followed them out as the last person on the team to leave The War Room. He looked back, ensuring nothing faded as they turned their backs on this section of the game. He had his reservations, but so far there was nothing to upset his congregation.

He turned and stepped through the door.

A roofless train, no more than a seated car on anti-grav tracks, awaited the team. He settled into a seat beside the female that looked like she belonged to the Sub Asian Quarter. They smiled a pleasant greeting to each other as the train shot forward like a bullet through a dark underground tunnel interspersed with blocks of fluorescent lights every few hundred yards. The effect was hypnotic but didn't last long.

The train slowed and the Sergeant gestured for them to go through another door.

Tim marvelled at the detail but wondered whether it was necessary to include so much journeying between levels.

They're really making it realistic, eh! said the woman, reading his mind as they both lifted themselves from their seats.

He smiled and nodded in response and fell in line with the others.

Through this door is the bus, bellowed the Sergeant. "The bus will