Bitter 541-545 (Patreon)

The realisation that Rick was not only stalking her in the real world but also the virtual one sent a cold chill through Britta. She wasn’t sure which was worse, but neither was welcome. At least he didn’t realise she was the gnome wizard he was looking for. Not yet, anyway.

The unpleasant shiver passed. While her heightened abilities in the game world didn’t translate into any super-skills in real life — she had tested whether she could run faster or react quicker, and she couldn’t — there was one benefit from facing danger and death on a regular basis. The level of panic she experienced had greatly reduced as she had become more familiar with the need to act and not just stand there gawping. A few deaths taught you that.

“What do you mean, she controls everything?” asked Britta. “How?”

“I’ve only seen her once,” said Rick, “but her stats are very different to everyone else’s.”

He could see her stats. Wait, did that mean he was Gabba?

He didn’t sound like her, although there could be many explanations for that. Her instinct was that it wasn’t him. Their attitudes were too different. But then that would mean Gabba had also found a way to hack her Anderson cradle. How many more people had done the same?

“So what?” said Britta, trying to affect a casual tone. Keeping the surging anxiety under control was much harder against Rick than it was when she faced a goblin. How were you supposed to act oblivious when you were in fact fully aware of the situation? It was a difficult thing to pull off. “Why does that make you think this gnome wizard controls the game?”

“It’s hard to explain,” said Rick, offhand and condescending. “The way she’s connected to the system… most people have a one-way connection, hers goes both ways.”

It was remarkable how much more confident and assured he sounded when he was talking about this stuff. The attraction of the game, of any online activity probably, would be huge to someone who found it hard to string two words together in normal company. In the game, Rick was a master in full control of his powers. In the game he had powers. She could see why it would be the more appealing world to live in.

Regardless, she didn’t want him to track her down in the game, and she certainly didn’t want him to work out her true identity.

“Maybe she’s different because she’s not a normal player. She could be an employee of APE. Or maybe she isn’t a player at all. She could be one of those computer controlled characters, whatever they’re called.”

“NPCs,” said Lewis, eager to provide information as Britta knew one of them would be. Obviously, she knew they were called NPCs. “Non-player character,” he added.

“I don’t think so,” said Rick. “Either way, we can ask her once we find her. That’s where your dad comes in.”

It was hard to process everything all at once. What was she supposed to do? She could just report Rick to APE and let them handle it, which felt a bit mean but also the only sensible choice. They would no doubt ban him, which would take away the one thing he treasured most. It would be his own fault, but he wouldn’t see it like that.

They all had eager looks on their faces. They saw nothing wrong in what they were doing, it was a big adventure to them, that was all. APE was some faceless corporate entity which had no interest in them, which was fairly accurate. Messing with helmets even though they had been warned not to wasn’t wrong, it was daring and cavalier. They were living out their dream of playing the swashbuckling hero in both worlds.

“I still don’t see what you expect to get from finding her. You’ll just start harassing her the way you did me.”

Rick’s face lost some of its boyish glee and dropped into mild offence. “I feel ‘harass’ is an extreme way to put it. You aren’t feeling threatened by us, are you?” He was right to some extent. It was more irritation than harassment. “And I very much doubt she’s even a girl.”

The casual sexism worked in her favour, but it was still annoying. The most powerful character in the game, therefore it had to be a boy behind it.

“Trust me,” said Rick, “when we tell her what we have in mind, she’s bound to be interested. She wouldn’t have hacked her rig if she didn’t have the same goals as us.”

“And what’s that?” asked Britta.

“Total domination of the game, of course.” Rick looked like he was surprised she even had to ask. “If we get control of the infrastructure now, we’ll be able to influence all aspects of New World in the future. The economy, the league tables, the quality of drops… the possibilities are endless, and very lucrative. This is just the start. Wait until the whole world’s playing, then you’ll see how important is to get an early foothold in the world.”

All four of them were getting visibly excited at their prospects. There was no way to talk them out of it, that was for sure.

“And you really think APE aren’t going to step in and shut you down?”

“Only if they find out what we’re up to. And they haven’t so far…”

It was hardly a winning argument. They don’t know yet so they never will. It was a big risk, but that was another thing about life online, you were more willing to take risks because the consequences seemed so much less severe. They wouldn’t feel like that when they were all permabanned and the rest of the world was off having virtual adventures they would only be able to watch in videos.

“So, will you tell your dad?” said Rick. Even if she said no, he would just find another way.

“I’ll ask him. It’s up to him if he wants to meet with you.”

There was a sense of relief and excitement from the four boys. Another quest completed.

“There is one thing I think you’ve overlooked, though,” said Britta.

“What’s that?” said Rick.

“If this gnome is as powerful as you think, I can see why you would want her working with you. But why would she want you working with her?” The excitement cooled a little. “She seems to have it all under control. Wouldn’t teaming up with you just mean her having to share the influence she could control on her own?”

“Um, yes,” said Rick, “that is a possibility, but I don’t think she can do it all on her own.”

“So you’d be willing to work for her? Be her subordinates?”

The boys exchanged unsure looks. They hadn’t considered this possibility, apparently. It would give them something to talk about at their next secret meeting.

“Anyway, I’ll ask him. No more signs outside windows, please.”

She would speak to Dad before making a decision. He would understand what they were doing better than anyone. He was a kindred spirit, and he’d found love and happiness outside of gaming, so it was possible. Even for Rick.

Britta’s promise to pass the invitation on to Dad was enough to get Rick and company to leave her alone for the rest of the day. Nothing happened at lunch and the weird kid with the sign was soon forgotten as just an oddity. Every girl who turned a worried eye towards her locker was both relieved and disappointed. Mostly relieved.

The first thing Britta did when she got home was to put her laptop away. She wrapped it in a towel, put it in a bag and slid it under her bed. She had no proof it was spying on her but she felt better with some sort of barrier around the laptop.

A couple of layers probably made no difference. And if they really wanted to keep tabs on her, they could just park a Chinese satellite over her house and watch her from there. It was a ridiculous thought, but one that was possible, if not very cost effective. Then again, money was no object to these people, not when it came to the future of New World. If things panned out the way everyone seemed to be expecting, the return on investment would be infinite.

After she had made her attempt at procuring some privacy, she went to talk to Dad about Rick.

“I don’t see the problem,” he said. “You need to report this to Dr Reedy immediately. There’s no way we can allow this boy to mess around like this. Not only will it ruin the game, it could be very dangerous.”

Britta was surprised he was being so adamant she needed to turn the boys in.

“But he’s just doing what you would do, isn’t he?”

“Britta!” said Dad, shocked. “I wouldn’t abuse a game like this. Finding a way to get a little advantage in a fight or a quest is one thing, but rewiring the hardware so you can see players’ stats… that’s like wall-hacking or using an aimbot. It’s straight up cheating, sweetheart.”

“Doesn’t that mean I’m cheating?”

“Yes, but that’s different. First, you didn’t do it on purpose, which is important. But more importantly, the company knows and they’ve removed you from the actual game so you can’t use your superior abilities to make life a nightmare for the other players. You can’t grief anyone, not that you would. From what you’ve told me, this Rick boy is going to try to take over the world.”

He made it sound much grander than he would have if he met Rick.

“I don’t think he means to do anything bad. He’s just excited about getting ahead of everyone else. He isn’t the sort of boy who’s ever going to get that chance in real life. If they take the game away from him…”

“Sweetheart, it’s good that you feel like you don’t want to hurt the boy. It shows the kind of person you are, and I’m very proud of you for that, but leaving him out there doing who knows what is going to end up hurting a lot more people in the long run. It’s a tough call to make, I know, but the alternative could end up being even worse.”

Britta understood what Dad was saying and agreed with him. She just wished it didn’t have to be her making the call.

“And you’re assuming the worst,” continued Dad. “You never know, they may actually end up working with him like they did with you. If he’s managed to figure out how to recreate what happened to you, then…”

Britta looked at Dad. “What?”

“No, it’s just that I realised if he really can replicate the accident that led to your character’s abilities, it may mean they no longer require your services.”

“Oh,” said Britta. She hadn’t thought of that. Rick’s ability to hack the cradle might actually not only be useful to APE, it might make her redundant, in both senses of the word. “So, what should I do?”

Dad was pacing back and forth around the kitchen table. “Hold on, hold on, let me think.”

Britt couldn’t help but look up at the ceiling. Was the Chinese satellite eavesdropping on them? Was the laptop listening through the floorboards?

“Here’s what we’ll do,” said Dad. “Tell him I’ll meet him in-game. I’ll talk to him, see what he’s planning. If it’s not a big deal, we can maybe leave him to it.”

“He wants to find me,” said Britta.

“Yes, but I’m sure I can keep him busy with other matters. Does he know about the AI? Sounds like he’s been caught up in the player experience without paying attention to who’s really running the show. In any case, if he is a danger to himself or others, we’ll have no choice but to turn him in. We’ll just have to face the music when the time comes.”

It wasn’t necessarily the best outcome, but it was a relief to have made a decision, especially as it was Dad who would be dealing with it.

If he did get involved with Rick, then she would need a way to avoid him inside the game. Dad would at least know where Rick was, and she would be able to make sure she spent her time somewhere else. It was a big world, she could stay at the other end of it.

When she told Lewis her father had agreed to meet Rick, there was jubilation in his eyes. This was the most important thing in Lewis’ life, and probably the same for the others. It had to be a big deal to bring such disparate people together. It was impressive how a game could change people’s whole outlook on life.

“That’s awesome. This is so epic. We’re like the first people to claim a new planet.”

Britta didn’t think of it like that. The planet already had plenty of people on it, including her. And there was a very good chance that she was about to kick them off.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” said Rick. “Britta told you—”

“Please, let’s stick to in-game names and details. I’m Guildford Underpass, you’re… Nasty McNice. Interesting name.”

“Just a way to stay anonymous. It’s the kind of name that doesn’t stand out in an online environment.”

Britta had described this boy as shy and awkward. He didn’t seem like that at all. He was dressed in flamboyant colours — green and yellow, mostly — and his robes suggested he was some sort of magic class.

“Very well,” said Nasty. He looked around the cafe full of NPCs and a couple of other players. “You’re right, we don’t know who might be listening. Or watching. Perhaps we should go somewhere a little more private.”

Guildford Underpass nodded and they both rose and made their way out onto the street. NPCs passed by on their way to and from whatever activity the devs had allotted them. The people of Quosada were in constant movement, always with somewhere to go but never allowed to get there.

Nasty McNice led the way. He seemed to know where he was going and moved with an easy determination. He seemed very confident in general, no sign of nervousness, no pause to consider his next move.

They went down a small alley to a door that was covered in filth and hard to see if you didn’t know it was there.

“This is the back door to the Roffle Hotel,” said Nasty. “It’s a service entrance. They usually leave it open.” He grabbed the handle and pulled. The door remained closed, seemingly locked. “One moment.” Nasty grabbed the handle with both hands and pulled harder, leaning back.

The door continued to remain closed, rattling slightly in the frame, and then opened with a suddenness that almost sent Nasty tumbling onto the ground. He managed to hang onto the door and remain upright.

“There we are. This way.”

On the other side of the door was a small hallway with doors every few metres in both directions. Guildford followed Nasty feeling a bit uneasy. They had just broken into a hotel, he wasn’t sure why. It looked fairly rundown, a fleabag joint where you could get a dirty room inexpensively. If they’d needed a room, they could have just rented one.

“Nobody uses this place,” said Nice, trying doors as he went, twisting the handles and giving each a tug. “Staying in a hotel doesn’t really serve a purpose when you can log out when you’re tired.”

A door clicked when he turned the handle and Nasty opened it.

“Why here?” said Guildford. “And why did we have to break in? Can’t be that expensive to just rent a room.”

They entered the room which had a rickety single bed in it. The linen didn’t look like it had been changed in a long time. There was a chest of drawers, a bedside cabinet with a lamp, a chest at the foot of the bed and wooden blinds on the window, which was so dirty you couldn’t see what was outside. It looked like any small bedroom in an RPG, with an additional layer of dust and grime.

“It isn’t, but it’s shut off from the main system. It’s in a blind spot, the devs can’t see or hear what goes on in here.”

“Are you sure?” How could there be an area in a game that the game was unaware of?

“Yes, trust me. It’s not that they don’t know the hotel is here, it’s just that the connections to audio and video detection are broken. There are quite a few places like this dotted around. I think they were created accidentally, but who knows. Maybe someone wanted a few dead zones in the game for privacy. Are you recording this?”

“No,” said Guildford. “Now, what is it you want exactly, Mr McNice?”

“Please, call me Nasty. And to answer your question, nothing. Not really. That is, I think we can help each other.” He casually opened and shut drawers as he spoke. “I can see that your character is nothing special. No offence, I just mean you don’t have any augmentation, apart from the video feed.”

Britta had said he could see character stats and personal details. Apparently, he could see other connections to the game as well, from buildings as well as people. Could he see that he wasn’t being recorded? Had he asked as a test? It would be wise to assume so.

“No, I’m a normal player,” said Guildford. “Unmodified equipment. If you’ve made changes to your Anderson cradle, you’ve probably put yourself at risk.”

“Of voiding my warranty? It’s fine. I know what I’m doing.”

He wasn’t just confident, he was cocky. It was disconcerting. This was a boy who could convince himself just about anything was acceptable if it pleased him to do so. Guildford opened the bedside cabinet out of habit. They were in an RPG after all, you had to be prepared to loot everything.

“You want my help finding someone.”

“Yes. A gnome called B. She’s a mage of some sort, that’s all I know for sure. Her connection to the game is unlike anyone I’ve ever seen. She is the key to controlling this world.”

“And that’s what you want, is it? To control this world?”

Nasty McNice stopped checking under the lumpy pillow. “Mr… Guildford, I think you’re familiar with how games work. I know this place doesn’t look like your typical RPG, but underneath it still has the same issues. It is riddled with bugs and holes waiting to be exploited. Someone is going to come along and take advantage of that, and the rest of us are going to be at their mercy. Or we can be the ones to take advantage.”

“You could always report the bugs you find and get them fixed,” said Guildford.

Nasty smiled and shook his head condescendingly. “Ha! We both know how effective that would be. The problem with this game is the same as any other video game. The technology may have advanced but the people making the game are the same. They make mistakes. They try to avoid responsibility for those mistakes. They pretend it is working as intended so they don’t have to put in any extra effort. In short, the devs are our real opponents, and they have a massive advantage. Don’t you think we should try to make things fairer?”

“By cheating?”

“Oh, it isn’t cheating when the rules have been made unreasonably set to no-win. You have to do whatever you can to save the Kobayashi Maru.”

“I think you’re overstating the difficulty,” said Guildford. “It is difficult to level up right now, but I hardly think it’s a no-win situation.”

“Perhaps not what you would call no-win,” agreed Nasty, “but my analysis has shown there’s a very strong bias against players. We are being low-rolled on purpose.”

This was surprising and shocking news, if it was true. “You’re sure about that?”

Nasty shrugged. “It’s hard to prove. Statistically, you could argue it was just RNG producing a series of unfortunate results. But the consistency of the inconsistencies is very suspicious.” He took a very unimpressive painting of a bowl of fruit off the wall and inspected it, and then put it in his bag.

“Hmm,” said Guildford, not finding the argument very convincing. “RNG can produce some awkward situations, that’s to be expected.”

“Indeed,” said Nasty. “Ever has it been thus. And we’ve had to accept it. What else can you do but take their word for it? They test these things, they make sure their randomness is truly random.”

“True,” said Guildford.

“False!” Nasty barked back. “It is one of the great fallacies of modern computing. Numbers aren’t generated randomly in a game. A computer can’t think of a number.”

“Yes, of course,” said Guilford. “We all know that. They don’t hide it from anyone. It’s a prepared list of randomised options the computer selects from. But the distribution is pretty accurate.”

“Oh, it’s exactly accurate, that’s the problem. But, you see, Mr Underpass, if you toss a coin a bunch of times, it can be heads, tails, heads, tails, heads, tails — that will give you the correct distribution — or it can be heads, heads, heads, tails, tails, tails, tails.”

“The algorithm is a little more complex than that,” said Guildford.

“Agreed, but that is not the point I’m making. What happens is that the distribution is sometimes a little off. A fraction, a decimal point, nearly there but not quite. Now, you could redo it all, or painstakingly go through the code line by line and find the error and fix it, or… you could just add on a bunch of results at the end to correct the distribution, say, like seventeen heads in a row tacked onto the end. It won’t make for a very pretty outcome for some poor player who gets stuck in the middle of that run of seventeen, but the books will be balanced, technically. And if the boss asks the dev if the RNG machine is accurate, he will have the test results to prove it. The only way to prove otherwise would be for someone to go in and forensically search the code for the error, that person also being a dev who will have to put in a great deal of effort when they would rather be doing something else. You can see the pattern, I’m sure.”

“Yes, I see what you’re saying,” said Guildford, “but without actual proof, you’re just—”

“Ah, proof, yes, yes, the beyond a reasonable doubt, the standard we must be judged by, and hide behind. Mr Underpass. Guildford. We are men of the world, the gaming world, so I ask you, do you think game developers are the sort of people who would allow something like that to happen? Would they ruin a game just to avoid doing a little more hard work than they strictly have to, and take the easy route in the confident belief that when complaints arrive they can loudly insist all is well since their negligence is so well hidden no one will ever be bothered to prove them wrong? You are familiar with programmers, what do you think? I can see from your face that you think as I do, that it is not only possible, it is more than likely. So you see, this game will never be fixed and the problems will only get worse. And unlike other games, this one actually matters.”

“And you think this wizard is the key?”

“Absolutely. She is the heart of the game. Together, I am sure we can find her and convince her to join us.”

“Well, I’m afraid I have some bad news for you,” said Guildford Underpass. “I know the gnome you’re talking about, I’ve even fought alongside her on a couple of occasions.”

“You have?” For the first time, Nasty McNice expressed some boyish excitement. “That’s great. I didn’t think it would be so easy to find her.”

“Yes, but like I said, it isn’t good news. She’s an employee of APE. She’s a tester, that’s why she isn’t hooked up like the rest of us. But it isn’t bugs she’s looking for, it’s how far the game can be pushed. She tests the limits.”

Guildford Underpass had thought long and hard about how to keep the boy off Britta’s trail and this seemed the best approach. If he wanted to stay off APE’s radar, then Britta was the last person he should want to get close to.

“Yes, I thought it might be something like that.”

“Not only that, but they are constantly watching her, recording everything she does. Even in a place like this, I’m pretty sure her channels would remain open. Approaching her would be the best way to let them know what you’re up to.”

Nasty McNice frowned. “I see. Yes, that wouldn’t be good. But she is very much the person we need. Or someone like her. I don’t suppose you know anyone like that?”

“No, I’m afraid not. She’s unique.”

“Hmm. I see I will need to come up with a new approach. Can I trust you to keep this matter private?”

“Nothing we discussed will leave this room.”

Nasty nodded absentmindedly, brow furrowed with thought. “Thank you, this has been helpful. I’ll be in touch.”

He left, his mood somewhat subdued. Guildford sat down on the bed and wiggled his backside. The mattress had to be less than an inch thick. He could feel the wooden boards beneath it.

“That was an unusual young man,” said N-28. He was standing in the doorway, his blond locks flowing as though there was a breeze out in the corridor.

“Yes. What do you think?”

“I will keep an eye on him, but nothing to worry about.”

Not telling APE what Rick was up to was risky, but they weren’t the only ones overseeing the game. In many ways, the AI was a much better supervisor. All things considered, it was the best option, even if he agreed with a lot of what the boy had said.

“Think of a number between one and ten,” said Guildford.

“Seven,” said N-28.

“And again.”

“Hmm, seven again.”

Guildford smiled. “Did you do that on purpose?”

“Only randomly,” said N-28.

***

Britta wasn’t sure what Dad would do about Rick, but she was happy he was handling it. There was no good way to deal with Rick that she could see, and many ways to make things worse. The last thing she wanted was an irate teenage boy hounding her at school.

Her focus was her school work. She had decided that was the important thing; now was not the time to get distracted by boys and video games.

It was, Britta knew, not a terribly proactive way to deal with the situation. She wanted to be the sort of person who faced her problems and took care of them quickly, not leave them to others. Delegating was all well and good, but dumping a problem in someone else’s lap and running away was not how great women earned the respect of the people around them.

Fortunately, she was able to immerse herself in her classes and forget about the game. Until lunchtime, that was.

There was a rise in background noise as chatter increased, suggesting something had happened. Everyone had their phones or other devices out, and were excitedly checking something. Britta did likewise but had no idea what she was supposed to be checking for.

She looked around for someone to ask, but there was no one. Rashida was eating her lunch oblivious and Lewis was in the middle of a crowd of boys.

His group seemed more excited than most, which suggested it might be related to the game. Britta looked up the biggest gaming sites and found that the source of the commotion was the announcement of new helmets being released, with no limit on the number and half the price of the previous batch.

It seemed the game was going wide in a big way, and in less than a month. New World would soon be a changed place.

As she looked over the news, the release of more helmets wasn’t the only announcement. As well as the hardware, there was a list of new features coming to the game. They included a lot of cash shop items to help new players, including XP boosters. That would mean you could level up a lot quicker, if you were willing to pay.

It sounded like the sort of thing Dad and other hardcore gamers would rage about. Had the whole point of slowing player progress been to force them to buy boosters?

There were more new items, too. New dungeons, a season pass (she wasn’t sure what was included with that), and various packages of fashion items and mounts.

There seemed to be a change in how the game was being presented, from a visual novelty to a fully-fledged money-making exercise. The game was definitely no longer in beta.

Everyone was excited right now, but it was more than likely their excitement would change to frustration if the game remained as difficult to level up as it was right now. It was all very well offering boosters, but you still had to get experience points in order to boost them. Casual players would not fare well against the monsters as they currently were.

Did that mean they would start to make fights easier?

“This is great, isn’t it?” said Lewis, sitting down next to her with his laptop open. “We can all play the game now, at the same time.”

Even though Lewis had found a way to play using Rick’s helmet, it had to be shared between four of them and they couldn’t play at the same time. Soon each would be able to have a helmet of their own. Would they hack them? More than likely if it meant they could stay ahead of everyone else.

Rick may have got lucky with the changes he made to his own Anderson cradle, but if he tried again with the new helmets there was a chance he would make a mistake that could leave one of them injured in some way.

“Yes, should be great,” she said. “It’s going to be a bit mad in there now, though. All those people. And it looks like there’s going to be a lot of people paying to win.”

Lewis was surprisingly sanguine about it. “That was always going to be the way it ended up. You can’t really blame the company. They invested a lot of money in making this thing, they’re going to want to recoup their investment. The important thing is that we have a way to keep things fair.” He grinned at her.

Yep, they were definitely planning to fiddle with their hardware. And if they were, so were a lot of other people. It would quickly devolve into a world dominated by cheaters, hackers and people willing to pay large amounts of money to keep up.

Was that really how they wanted New World to evolve? Perhaps now that they had fine-tuned the software, they planned to move on and use the game to print money. Lewis was right, they had invested a lot, and they would want it back plus interest.

“At least it isn’t like those Asian MMOs. They just make you grind for everything and microtransaction you to death.”

Maybe it was more like those Asian MMOs than Lewis realised. It was owned by a Chinese company, after all.

It made no real difference to her, Britta told herself. She would continue to do her job and use the money to level up in the real world. She did, however, send Lin a text asking her if the game’s difficulty would change. It seemed a small but relevant question that affected her directly.

She received an immediate reply.

No. The marketing is being handled by the gaming arm of the company. They have a very aggressive approach to making money. Nothing will really change.

Was that really possible? It seemed unlikely you could sell items in the cash shop that were advertised to make the game easier, and then not deliver. Technically, they were only offering boosters, not actual XP, but the implication was still there.

Next time she logged in, it might not be the same world.

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