Ultimatum: The Proving Grounds Page 8

  He tapped the window and a pair of boots appeared out of thin air in front of him. They struck the ground with a pair of thumps. He let out a sigh as he sat down. He barely noticed the level up sound or the light show this time.

  He was tired. Really, actually tired. For reals tired.

  Claire was the first one to find him. She lifted her hand and gave the Chang Sing salute. The name of the gangs in Big Trouble in Little China had been bugging him for awhile. He’d figured it out right about the time the Bugbear showed up. The Chang Sings fighting the Wing Kong who were working for David Lo Pan.

  He had apparently lost some health at some point. The white light fixed that. Things had gotten… a bit hectic.

  She gave him a nod. “Good work. That thing was way out of our league.”

  “Go team, rah rah.”

  “Quite.” She sat down beside him. “You okay?”

  “Honestly? Tired. And Tim saved me from that bit of wood there.” He waved at it absently. “But when he knocked me down… I felt like I was going to throw up.”

  She nodded. “Spacial dissonance. You were standing up, your character was lying down. Not something you ever really get used to. We tried to remove it entirely, but it made for screwy physics if people couldn’t move. So now we just try to avoid causing it.”

  He shook his head a few times. “Still a bit queasy.” He picked up one of the boots. “But I got new shoes, so I guess it evens out.”

  “Three levels, too.”

  He blinked. “Wait, saw the pyrotechnics, but…” He opened the character window. He was level five now. “Huh.”

  “Like I said, that thing was way beyond us. So killing it gave everyone involved a bunch of experience. Enough for everyone in our group to level three times over.”

  He was already moving about on the skills page. “Neat.”

  “Bit of advice? Let’s try to keep Paul from having a stroke, huh? Put a few points into stamina.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  She nodded and stood back up. “Healer chores to see to. Get your points figured out, we’ll be here a few minutes.”

  He nodded and glanced around. Most people were messing with menus… or working on their mime routines.

  Jesse was standing on top of the dead bugbear and flexing.

  He assigned his points using the same mentality as before. Fifteen points as a three two spread meant nine for strength and six for stamina. He eyed dexterity, but it didn’t say much about defense, only damage with ranged weapons. And while he had thrown his sword repeatedly… he didn’t think that counted. Intelligence, Wisdom, and Charisma didn’t seem to have any use to him either. He didn’t imagine he would be talking to many people… just hitting them.

  In the end it was a good thing he didn’t need more stats. He knew what he had to focus on and didn’t need to worry about any complicated math.

  The ability tree on the other hand… there were still tons of them. He started with what he knew. It would cost him two points to upgrade Duo to Trio, adding an even greater range and damage increase on this third melee strike. No question. Done.

  He paged through abilities a bit further down… Shock wave. If a horizontal strike was performed but no target was in range, the strike extends outward using the moving air to cut targets two yards beyond the length of the weapon.

  Neat. He was lacking in ranged capability. He selected the ability and stood up.

  He almost tripped over his boots. He picked them up and glanced around. No one else was holding new gear like he was.

  Toby walked over to where Paul and Claire were talking with Tim and Amos. “Uhh…” He held up the boots.

  Amos smiled. “Put ‘em on, or put ‘em away?”

  “…Yes.”

  “Well there’s always the main menu.” He made the finger up and swiping down gesture. “But if you want to go straight to the inventory, you can just reach back behind you.” He did so and his hand returned holding a red bottle. “Like so.”

  Toby did as he was shown. It worked. A field of boxes and items appeared before his eyes. Well, not many items. He dropped the boots behind his back and they appeared in one of the slots. He opened the character sheet from the main menu. The new boots were better, and they had metal shin guards. Very Thunderdome.

  He looked down at his feet as the old boots disappeared and the new ones took their place.

  “Weird.”

  Amos chuckled. “The whole motion thing takes some getting used to, but it becomes second nature.”

  Toby kicked his feet… but the ones below him in game did nothing of the sort. Right. Movement was leaning, not feet. In fact, the sensors probably couldn’t detect his feet at all.

  His shoulders slumped. Still tired. “So, what’s the plan now?”

  Paul turned and gave him a nod. “This was a victory, to be sure. We didn’t lose a single character, and there is no doubt that was due to your contribution.” He climbed on top of the bugbear and stared at Jesse. She shrank under his gaze and climbed down. He cleared this throat and raised his voice. “Alright, people. Right now we don’t have any other leads, so we’re sending the scouting parties out and I’m calling it dinner break. Let’s head back to the church to thoroughly abuse the safe haven while we get some food brought in.” He waved his sword over his head. “Move out.”

  Toby’s stomach growled. He hadn’t been thinking of food… but Cliff and Claire had picked him up well before his dinner time, and he had left his prepared dinner at his apartment.

  Paul hopped down and inclined his head back toward the church. “Okay, give me suggestions people.”

  Claire held up her intertwined hands. “Please not pizza.”

  Amos nodded. “I can second that.”

  Tim shrugged. “I could go for pizza.”

  Jesse nodded fervently. “Pizza is always good.”

  Claire scowled at her. “No, it isn't.”

  Tim tilted his head as he glanced aside at Claire. “It’s like you don’t work in the software sector at all.”

  “I am not a ninja turtle, okay? I can not subsist solely on pizza.”

  “They have other things there.”

  “Blech.”

  Paul shook his head… but he was smiling. “Okay, we’ll round up orders. Maybe the feds want something.”

  Toby sat in the church, his back to one of the walls below a stained glass window like so many others. He wasn’t alone, but the number of guild members online had taken a sharp nosedive. There were three other people in the church, primarily guarding the doors. Some of the alternates were out scouting as well.

  Seemed like everyone who felt like talking was somewhere else. In here there was only silence.

  He flipped through his skills sheet and tried to make a plan. A lot of options added to what he already did, and those seemed like solid choices. Others required him to use a certain series of abilities to gain new effects all street fighter style, but he wasn’t sure how well he could memorize that sort of thing, and he feared if things got bad enough he would forget how to do something important. Unless it was down, down forward, forward, and then punch. He would never forget that one.

  The most powerful things appeared as one got near the top, of course. Being a barbarian meant he would gain access to a rage mechanic when he hit level fifteen.

  It sounded… problematic.

  “While raging ones damage, attack range, and attack speed are all increased. However, the barbarian looses sight of the battlefield and can only identify characters (friend or foe) as glowing ghostly outlines. Damage caused while raging extends to all targets, even friendly targets that would otherwise be immune to harm from the barbarian’s attacks. All are the same in the eyes of the berserker rage.”

  Very problematic. A powerful feature and a key part of being a barbarian… and he couldn’t touch it. Hmm. Maybe if he ran out ahead, and everyone else waited behind…

  There was a tap on his shoulder. He turned, but no one was there.


  Oh, right. He lifted up his hands and pulled the headset off.

  Claire was crouched down beside him. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, just reading up. Trying to make a plan.”

  She nodded. “Good. But right now it’s time for food. Come on.”

  “Right.” He plopped the headset back on and brought up the menu. It took a moment to log out, and he knew his character would still be there waiting, regardless. But that wasn’t going to change. His stomach growling might. He pulled the headset back off and set it down.

  Claire picked it up and hung it on the computer station it belonged to. There was a place for the gloves and vest, too.

  His legs ached a bit as he stood up and stretched. “What’s on offer? My wallet is in my bag, just let me-”

  She shook her head. “No need. The feds sprang for… ugh… pizza, swell guys that they are. Did it before we had a chance to stop them. No reason for it to go to waste…” She shrugged with a sigh. “Couple of us sent Tim after Chinese though. You’re welcome to that too when it shows up. They always send way to much.”

  His stomach growled again. “Maybe I’ll make a sweet and sour pizza. It’s been a long time since lunch.”

  Claire shook her head furiously. “I think I might have just thrown up in my mouth a little.”

  He grinned. “Variety is the spice of life.”

  “There are plenty of spices without trying that one.”

  The room across the hall from the pit turned out to be a break room. Some people were grumbling about their normal break room being taken over upstairs, and some of the the QA people that were always down here were grumbling about the crowd. But neither complaint was common. People seemed to be in pretty high spirits. All the tables were full. People were standing in groups in other places.

  The story of the bugbear was being told or discussed here and there.

  There were a few booths against the far wall. One had a few open seats. Claire grabbed Toby’s hand and weaved them through the crowd to reach it. “Have a seat. We called group one table. I hope you like pepperoni, because that’s all the feds ordered. A veritable shit load of pepperoni.” She shook her head as she moved through the crowd.

  A woman with long blond hair done up in a bun and sporting a large pair of glasses looked up at him. She looked to be a handful of years older than him. Maybe thirty. “Huh. The auto customizer did a pretty good job on you.” She held out her hand. “Jesse. Nice to meet you, officially.”

  He shook her hand. “Toby. Officially.”

  The guy on the other side shook his head as he held out his hand. “Jerry.”

  “Jerry?” Toby shook the man’s hand, but his eyes were bouncing around as he scoured his brain. “Jerry, Jerry… I heard that…”

  “Amos.” The man nodded. “In there, I’m Amos. Out here, I’m Jerry. I didn’t pick a badass name in there to not use it like these fools.”

  “Right.” Toby nodded. “Your pit.”

  “Sure is. QA lead is the official title. Pit boss sounds more intimidating, though.”

  The younger man beside him held out his hand. “Bill. Don’t strain yourself, I’m an alternate that hasn’t alternated in yet. I’m Morian in there, but Bill will still work fine.” He rolled his eyes at Jerry. “Have a seat.” He pointed across the way to the open spot beside Jesse.

  She smiled. “I don’t bite.”

  He collapsed onto the bench. It was nice to relax. “Seems like we’re missing a few.”

  “Claire is elbowing people in the face for pizza, Tim and Carol went to fetch some Chinese, and Paul is…” She glanced around the room. “Somewhere? Oh, Carol is our other alternate, by the way. Tim’s wife. Nice lady. She runs a mage. Totally understands the appeal in setting things on fire.” She nodded.

  “Uh-huh.”

  Jerry took a sip from a clear plastic cup filled with a bubbling brown liquid. “Think we were supposed to do some strategizing or something, but Paul’s AWOL. Guess he figured we could just use the break.”

  Bill shrugged. “Or the feds snagged him in the halls.”

  Claire wedged her way back through the crowd with her elbows while still managing to hold two plates. She set them down on the table and waved her hands at Toby. “Scoot. The two of you have narrower butts than the other side of the table.”

  Toby did as he was told. One does not deny the provider of pizza.

  He ate quietly while the others talked. He didn’t really feel like he had much to add. Everyone knew each other, and they seemed to be on pretty good terms.

  He felt like an outsider, plain and simple. Though they made efforts to speak to him, he would chew and give a shrug or nod rather than replying. Most of what they discussed went over his head, which would probably have been the same if he was talking to Mr. Stevens in front of them. He didn’t mind the company, though. They were all friendly. Even people at the other tables laughed often enough he found a smile on his face. The mood was infectious.

  A tall man and a short woman pushed their way to the table with a collection of bags. He spoke as he held up the bag. “Right-o. Who ordered the dog?”

  The woman punched the man in the arm. “Rude.” She shook her head.

  “What? They know I’m kidding.” It was clearly Tim’s voice, though Toby couldn’t say how much he resembled his character. The rogue always had a black hood hiding everything above his nose. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “I might not be kidding. That place looked pretty sketchy.”

  Claire glared at him and snatched the bags away. “Don’t badmouth Chang’s. They make the best chow mein.”

  Carol, so named by process of elimination, held out a hand to Toby. “Hi, you must be the new guy.”

  He shook her hand. “Yep. Nice to meet you.”

  “You like Chinese?”

  Tim glanced about. “Maybe we can drag up some chairs.”

  Toby shook his head. “Actually I need to find the restroom and stretch my legs a bit, if you don’t mind. Gets you another seat.”

  Claire frowned at him, but she slid off the bench so he could stand up. “Down the hall, take a left. If you take a right, you’ll hit the elevators.”

  He nodded. “Thanks.”

  Tim held out his hand, and Toby shook it as he stood up.

  “Thanks for the save earlier.”

  “No problem. Sorry about the tackle. Hear you didn’t throw up though, so good on you.”

  “Ha, yeah… I kinda wanted to.”

  “Pizza’s not that bad.” Tim nudged Toby with his elbow. “Walk around some, we’re probably not done for the night.”

  Toby nodded and wandered into the crowd. It took him a few moments to get clear of the room.

  Cool air and blessed silence met him in the hallway.

  He worked with one person. Very occasionally two if there was large order or shifts overlapped. Or if one of the teenagers begged another couple of shifts for prom money or something. All rare situations. Large groups of people… were not his strong suit.

  The restroom was easy enough to find. The hallway turned at the back wall and snaked around to some office space looking doorways, but he didn’t need to go down there.

  He washed his face in the restroom. He was still queasy around the edges, but he was pretty sure he could keep his dinner down.

  That wasn’t it, though. He pulled his phone out of his pocket. He’d missed a few texts from Mitchel and one from Mr. Stevens. He took a minute to update Mitchel on the Kingsmen guild and asked if he’d seen anything like the bugbear fight.

  It was getting late. Mitchel had a buttoned down important person job at a bank. He probably wouldn’t reply tonight. He’d be playing if he could. Might be answering calls from work. He did that sometimes.

  He let Mr. Stevens know everything was fine. He’d left under false pretenses due to the cops wanting to keep a lid on things, so he kept up with that and implied he was mostly hanging around being bored with some folks from the company Claire worked fo
r. Explained why she was there. He didn’t like lying to Mr. Stevens so he took the opportunity to veer a bit toward the truth. He’d tell him everything when all of this was done.

  Toby stretched his neck. The VR gear wasn’t exactly heavy, but after extended use it would be a problem. The company had done all they could about the weight but at the end of the day it was still a monitor strapped to his head.

  He wandered back out into the hall. He didn’t know how long the night would be, or how much more exhausted he would be when it ended. He could take a minute to brush his teeth now.

  The pit was still mostly empty, a few computers manned and a few VR stations running.

  Paul was sitting in the center of the room looking up at the projected screens.

  9

  Paul didn’t seem to notice when Toby entered.

  He quietly walked to his backpack and opened it up. Everything was where he had left it. Really though, nobody here had need of any of his junk.

  He closed the bag and glanced at the screen as he stood back up.

  All manner of statistics were laid out. Tables. Charts. More than a few things Toby couldn’t make heads or tails of.

  Paul stared ahead, his face emotionless.

  “Anything good?” Toby sat down beside Paul.

  Paul seemed surprised to be awakened from the charts. “Not really.” He pointed to a line graph. “That spike there is the bugbear incident. The line is charting experience gain for the entire server, trying to chart the general level of progression.”

  “How far behind are we?”

  “Less than you’d think given the time everyone else has had. The bugbear made up some for other people taking on safer tasks. We’re behind but we’re not that far behind. The curve is just pushing level ten.”

  Toby scratched at the back of his neck. “And you can read that? From up there?”

  “Really just a matter of knowing what to look for.” He shrugged. “You eat?”

  “Yeah. You?”

  Paul shook his head. “Meeting with the feds up stairs. They don’t have much. They want us to try and goad Miller into revealing something. As if we can do that without jeopardizing everything by pissing him off.”