Characters: Sophia, Jesse, Alyssa, Wallace, Russell, Michelle, Pip, Neil
Location: CNN
Time: Day 4 - 7:35 PM
Back at CNN, tensions were high. Russell had returned and, after realizing Sophia was safe, locked the doors so no one could leave. The secretary and security guards remained at their posts, with the exception of Wallace, who remained at Sophia’s side by her request. Jesse stayed with her as well, keeping a close hand on the gun concealed under his belt loop. Alyssa had gotten bored and went to the cafeteria to cook everyone a homemade dinner, but they ate her rancid beef and sour potatoes numbly, not tasting a thing. And maybe that was for the best.
Michelle’s eyes remained glued to her computer while Pip and Neil stood on either side of her. Occasionally she would ask a favor of them, which was complied by both of them rushing to please her first. Perhaps it was simply their male hormones, but Michelle was the most beautiful woman they had ever laid eyes upon. She had short brown hair, the kind that fell in waves, and eyes to match. Her thin black sweater wrapped around her body like a tight birthday present and her high heels clicked in tune with her fingernails against the keyboard. But best of all, she was into computers. They had never met a girl like that before. Not one that didn’t wear glasses or weigh as much as Tony, or at least look like him. But ever since Michelle had walked through the door, strutting in like an angel on a silver ray of light, they had forgotten all about Tony. And maybe that was for the best. Maybe it was all for the best.
Michelle had made amazing progress in the past few hours. Aside from quarantining a sector of Neverquest, she had hacked into the advanced tracker program designed by Tony in order to tap into the mind of each person being recorded within the game world. She used that to obtain each player’s name and place of log-in (the only two things the system would allow because of privacy laws), which allowed her to make identification sheets. She then used that information to obtain each player’s cell phone number, which she wired into and redirected all calls straight to CNN. Finally, by using a voice identifier and changer on the player’s voice mail, she was able to manipulate each player’s voice for simple phrases like, “No,” “I love you,” and “I’ll be home soon.” It wasn’t much, but it bought them some time, just in case any worried parents should try to call their son or daughter soon. After all, the virus had been affecting the servers for over forty-eight hours now. It was about time to worry.
There was something strange, though. Earlier in the afternoon, they had determined that four houses were plugged into the CNN servers. Now there were two. The connections from the house of Raven and that of Joan had inexplicably vanished from radar.
“It may just be a visual blackout caused by the virus,” Michelle had said at the time. “We don’t know exactly what kind of effects it has on the real world.”
But they remembered what had happened to Tony.
“This is all my fault…” Russell muttered from where he sat, straddled backwards on a wooden chair, with one hand holding his chin and the other resting on the desk. “I should’ve known the world wasn’t ready for a game like this. We should’ve done more testing. None of this should’ve happened.”
“It’s shoulda, woulda, coulda all over again,” Michelle said, digital reflections of the computer screen in her eyes, “but we don’t have time for that. There are a dozen kids counting on us to destroy this virus.”
“It’s just… Tony… I knew the guy. We went to college together. He always said he was going to create the greatest video game of all time and…and I told him I would become a rich businessman and finance his project. That was our deal… Our dream, Michelle. And we stuck by it.”
“I know. Tony was a good man.” She reached for the mouse and found Russell’s hand instead. For the first time in two hours, she tore her eyes away from the monitor to look him in his eyes. “…But he died doing something he loved. There is no better way to go.” Then she smiled. “And once we eliminate this virus, we’ll see his dream fulfilled. Neverquest is all over the news. By this time next week, you’ll be the owner of the most revolutionary game in the history of mankind. Now that’s a dream worth dying for.”
“I would’ve taken his place, you know.”
“I know.”
“I would’ve done anything. If I had been here, if I had done something…”
“I know.”
“Damn, Tony…” Russell bit into his hand and turned away. “God dammit! …How did this happen? Who the hell would put a virus into our systems?”
“Maybe somebody with a grudge against CNN.”
“I don’t recall stepping on any toes on my way up.”
“Russell…”
“Okay, maybe one or two.”
Michelle tried to smile again, but it was weaker this time. “ You’re a good businessman and Tony was a good programmer. I don’t know what anyone would have against either of you, but we can’t worry about that right now. The important thing is getting those kids out of the game.”
“Of course.” Then he paused. “How are we going to do that?”
“Well… In an ideal world, I push a button and—zap!—the virus is gone. But you and I both know our world is far from perfect…”
“Michelle, please tell me you’re only going to have to push two buttons. Don’t complicate this, please. We don’t need that.”
She looked at him with another trying smile and shook her head. “I’m sorry, Russell. We have three choices and you’re not going to like any of them.”
“I’ve heard that before.”
Michelle clapped her hands and stood up. “Everyone! Everyone, would you please gather around. I have an announcement to make.”
Pip and Neil, who were working at a different desk, were the first to appear beside Michelle. Then came Sophia, Jesse, and Wallace, who were in the corner of the room, inspecting the game chair that Tony had died in. Alyssa was last in line and she lingered back a little from the main circle, feeling a bit nervous and awkward among all the people she didn’t know.
“Everyone,” Michelle said, “as you know, our first priority is to rescue the people trapped in Neverquest. Even if we were to assume the best possible scenario—that each player had eight hours of rest and a well-balanced meal with plenty of fluids in their systems before logging into Neverquest—that still means they have gone over forty-eight hours without those basic life necessities. I don’t mean to sound morbid, but if we don’t pull those kids out of the game by this time tomorrow, we might as well yank the plug on the systems…because there won’t be anyone left to save.”
There was silence all around.
“…Now, I know I promised you a solution to the virus tonight, but it’s not going to come without some risks. After seeing what the virus has done and what it plans to do, I’ve compiled three courses of action that we can choose to take. Unfortunately, none of them come without drawbacks.” She took a deep breath before continuing. “I’ll get this one out of the way first. …Our first choice is that we could unplug the servers now.”
Sophia’s eyes shot open. “That would kill all the players!”
“It might not. It may just send them into a temporary coma state. It might also leave them with some cerebral damage, but at least they have a chance for survival. We can’t promise them that same survival as tonight turns into tomorrow. We don’t even know if they’ll survive the night.”
Sophia’s eyes faded into a scowl, but she didn’t reply.
“There has to be another way,” Russell said.
“Well, that is the surest way of destroying the virus. It would also be the most beneficial in protecting the game’s main interface. If we shut off the systems, I can tap into the servers and eliminate all traces of the virus in a matter of minutes. Our only guaranteed loss would be a few files that could easily be backlogged.”
“And what of the kids in the game?” Pip asked.
“…I estimate a thirty percent survival rate. That is, survival with potentially lethal side effects.”
Russell shook his head. “That’s unacceptable. There has to be a better way.”
“Well, I managed to break through six of the seven doors of encryption placed on the virus. If I could crack the last door, I would have open access to the inner workings of the virus. Then, depending on the type of virus it is, I could rewrite its program and clean our systems in the blink of an eye.”
“Well, let’s get on that,” Jesse said.
“…A seventh-door encryption is very difficult to crack. Without the password, it could take a long time before I could break in.”
“How long is a ‘long time’?”
“We’d be measuring in days.”
“We have less than one day,” Russell said.
“Yes, and so I estimate somewhere between a fifteen and twenty-five percent survival rate for the people trapped in the game. It would be slightly more or less depending on what kind of virus this turned out to be. If it’s a Class B or C, we’d be looking at about thirty percent. …If it’s a Class A, the best I could do—and it’s generous—is two.”
“Two percent?”
Michelle nodded.
“Tony told me about Class A viruses…” Neil said. “He said they were almost impossible to stop.”
“Not impossible. You see, class viruses are all programmed to carry out specific tasks in a predetermined order. They also all carry a seven-door encryption, so it’s impossible to distinguish a Class A virus from a B or C until you break the last line of code. Then you’ll very quickly know what type of virus it is.”
“How is that?”
“It’s a Class B or C, you’ll have open access to everything. If it’s a Class A, you’ll have a very short amount of time before the virus changes its program entirely. In a sense, it’s like a time bomb. Once it goes off, the doors shut, the passwords change, and the encryption is run completely from the virus. Then there is no stopping it.”
“Is there enough time to stop the virus before it does that?”
“…In an ideal world.”
“Michelle,” Russell said, “I’m not liking these numbers.”
“…There is a third way of stopping the virus.”
“What is it?”
“The secret to destroying a virus is knowing that it’s only as smart as its creator. If we could locate the creator, we could coerce him—or her—into giving up the password for the seventh door. We would also better know what we were up against once we had access to the main workings.”
“That’s assuming we were told the right password,” Neil said. “Tony told me about special alarm-trigging passwords.”
“Yes, it’s possible that, even if we can find the creator, we could be given a false password. Especially if this is a Class A virus, there’s a good chance that the maker of the virus doesn’t want it be to stopped. That’s why I estimate about a ten percent survival rate from this method.”
Russell stared at the tiled floor. “There’s no happy ending, is there?”
“I’m afraid not. We’re playing the odds, no matter what choice we make.”
“But we do have a lead,” Neil said. “We know the virus originated from Siarra’s computer. And, according to what we heard from Tony’s conversation in the game, she may have helped to create the virus.”
“I have a hard time believing a teenager could be responsible for this, but that may be a good place to begin.”
“Well, it’s not like we can simply go to her house and talk to her,” Sophia said quickly. She hadn’t forgotten. Gibbers was at Siarra’s house. Dead. She didn’t want any of them going there. “She’s still in the game, remember?”
“Yes,” Michelle said. She stopped, scanning the faces of the people below her, and then slowly continued. “We can’t meet with her face to face, but the section of Neverquest I have quarantined off is available to us. We could use it to travel into the game, locate Siarra, and retrieve the password. If she’s willing to give it up, this may save many lives…”
“You aren’t seriously suggesting we go in there?” Sophia asked. “That’s where the virus is at, Michelle. That’s where people are dying.”
“Yes, I know. But we have safe passage back and forth.”
“This is insane…”
“Michelle…” Russell started to say, but she put a warm hand on his shoulder and it silenced him almost instantly. He looked to his daughter, who looked back, and then closed his eyes.
How had this happened?
Giantess World
