For Money or Mayhem

{15} The Game’s Afoot

I don’t suppose there is a hacker alive who hasn’t spent time in the gaming world. Probably a lot of time. Gaming keeps us sharp and we develop long-term attachments and respect for each other.

Back in the good old days, online gaming was limited to Bulletin Board Systems (BBS) where the gamer entered character attributes, then chose what to do in the world that evolved. It was nearly all text-based. But just reading those lines—turn right, take two steps, strike, run—were enough to put real images in the player’s mind. That’s where I learned to visualize the Internet. We played on the Internet before the World Wide Web put a visual interface on it. When the world turned to animation graphics and avatars, half the fun went out of seeing it all through your own eyes. Gaming lost some of its appeal for hardcore hackers.

Most people aren’t aware that there are still text-based games available online. They are run by hackers, for hackers, and half the fun is getting inside someone else’s game and wreaking havoc. Most—including mine—are on the domains set up by John Patterson. That gave me the creeps just now.

I created a game over the past year that was designed to discover where my former bosses from Henderson Associates had squirreled away over a billion dollars of assets. It had been eighteen months now since I helped the police put them in jail, but there was still no sign of the money. Oh, there were the typical clues, a constantly-evolving terrain, and some very real dangers to those who played. A real reward, too, if someone happened to discover where the missing money was. It could happen.

When I posted the simple message to my gaming board, it was a challenge to all comers to play treasure-hunt. By posting it from the laptop in my office, it was a direct challenge to my watcher—or maybe to everyone on my team if they were all watching me. Now I was going to find out who showed up.

I left the office before lunch. Frankly, I was past caring who knew if I was working or not. It seemed like everyone already knew I wasn’t really hired to do the job I was hired for. Like that made sense. Besides, I needed some additional equipment if I was going to run a game tonight.

I used the excuse that my computers were impounded to head out to one of the local warehouse stores and buy the biggest, baddest, gamer laptop I could find. I considered buying one of those roll-aboard suitcases to carry it in rather than trying to drag it around, but opted for an over-the-shoulder carry-all. While I was there, I ran up my credit card a little higher and bought the latest tablet model with as much memory as I could get in it and a cellular Internet account.

The nice thing is that I didn’t need much in the way of software, and I didn’t need my own network to run the game. All the software is in the cloud, and frankly, the entire Internet was our game board. What I needed were different IP addresses so I could jump from one to another. That meant I’d be traveling and connecting through different servers as frequently as I could. I wasn’t going to be standing still so I couldn’t depend on a wired connection of any kind. By five, I was sitting in a coffee shop in West Seattle, about ready to start the game.

My cell phone rang and I answered Andi less abruptly than I had a few nights ago.

“Hello, girlfriend,” I said. What a difference a week makes… no, make that five days.

“Ooo. A girl could get used to that.”

“I hope she does.”

“What are you up to tonight?” I had no qualms about doing my own thing tonight, though if Andi had suddenly offered to meet me for dinner, I’d probably have called off the whole game. I knew, though that she taught an Adult Ed class on Monday nights, so I just went with my plans.

“I’m running a game tonight online. It promises to be rather informative.”

“Going to Nowhere Land,” she laughed.

“You could always show me the way to Somewhere Land.” There was a sequence of lands a relationship could go through. We’d already broken through Nowhere Land in our relationship, but, of course, that wasn’t what she was asking about.

“You aren’t going hunting for the missing money again, are you?” It was a point she disagreed with me on. I was determined to close the loop on the question of where the money went when the boss stole it. It doesn’t just evaporate. What does it mean when you say you lost money on a deal? Who found it? Where did it go? I was going to be the one who found it.

Andi supported me through that latest collapse in my life, just as she had supported me when I lost Hope. But she had always challenged my thinking.

“You were awfully pleased with yourself when you brought down the company president,” she’d said.

“Well, maybe I was a little too happy to find the evidence that would put him behind bars,” I admitted.

“You giggled like a little kid.”

“Okay, you’re right. But that is nothing like the celebration that will happen when I find the money. That Costa Rican seaside mansion she’s living in is going to turn into a cardboard box on the beach when I’m done.” Bitter about Hope leaving me to move up the food chain and marry my CEO? Who me?

“Don’t tell me things like that,” Andi said. “Even in jest. They might call me in to testify against you.”

“Hmm. I might have to marry you then, just so you won’t have to testify against me.”

“Trade my corner of Paradise for your living hell? I don’t think so.” She made a good point. I’d let the plundering of Henderson Associates eat at me, especially since none of my so-called friends from the company would talk to me anymore. I’d let up on the search, but I couldn’t help it if occasionally it drew me back.

“It’s different this time,” I said. “I’m not really after the money, though if it shows up, I won’t object. What I’m really trying to do is flush out my quarry at EFC. I’ve set up a pretty good proposition for the game tonight and I’m seeing who rises to the occasion. You know, that’s the job I was hired to do there.”

“Mmmm. Okay. You know I worry about you. There have been too many science fiction stories about people who play a game, but when they die in the game they really die. I don’t believe it, but it still gives me gooseflesh.”

“Well, tell me what you’re doing tonight,” I suggested. English Literature was always good for calming the turmoil.

“I’m pretending to teach Twentieth Century American Literature while disguising the fact that I’m doing basic language development for Adult ESL students.”

“So you’re playing a game?”

“That pretty well sums it up,” she laughed. “They really don’t know anything at this level.”

“That’s why they come to your classes,” I admonished. She’d used the same line on me the day we met.

“Touché. I admit to being almost as human as you.” We laughed. “So would you like to have dinner tomorrow after work? Cali’s in dress rehearsal. I’d love company.” Her voice sounded hesitant—a little shy. I smiled.

“Ms. Marx, are you asking me on a date?”

“I guess so,” she said. “Damn it! Don’t make this any harder than it is.”

“Andi, I would love to have dinner with you. Anytime. I really can’t wait to see you.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Well, I’d better get to class, and you’d better get into cyberspace. Don’t forget an oxygen tank!”

“I’ll see you tomorrow night. ’Bye.”

“’Bye.” I bit my tongue as we disconnected. I’d almost said ‘I love you.’ Grade A number one mistake according to all the dating manuals. We’d had two dates and a group barbecue this weekend. Don’t rush it! I lectured myself.

It was time to start the game.

By seven I’d logged over a dozen players into the game. Those who were new had picked their avatars and generated their roles and power levels. I recognized several I’d played with in the past on other games. More players registered within the first half hour and set out on their quest.

I nearly canceled the game when I recognized the moniker of one player. John Patterson had joined the quest. Damn! I didn’t want him anywhere near anything I was doing. Why isn’t he in jail yet? I tried to calm my racing heart. I’d watch him closely and we’d see if he exposed anything I could turn over to the police. Not likely in a game, but there might be an IP address or alias I wasn’t aware of.

I’d originally developed this game to send people out into an Internet multiverse searching for a combination of factors that would reveal $3.2 billion secreted in the account of some very wealthy man whose net worth read only $12.7 million. The lure was that it was real money and there was a ten percent finder’s fee if it was recovered. Some games are written to inspire competition and some to foster cooperation. If a registered player discovered the money, even if it was done outside the game, the finder’s fee was to be split among all the registered players. This meant it was to everyone’s advantage for someone to find the prize. As much as I could make it, I’d ensured there was no reason beyond gaming pride to compete with each other. I was hoping that tonight the identity of who was following me at EFC would be revealed.

It was a big shock to me when two player avatars were killed.

I got two equally angry flames in my inbox almost at the same time. These were good, long-term players I’d known online for years.

“Somebody must be playing to make sure everyone loses,” I answered both players. “I’m resurrecting you with a level ten power source. I’d appreciate it if you two would flank me. It looks like we’ve got incoming.”

“I’ve got your six, CyberTalon,” the gamer named DeepSix shot back. The other, CyClops, went silent and I wasn’t sure if he’d left the game in a huff or if he was pursuing his own line. It took me a moment to realize that I’d just given John Patterson virtual immunity in the game.

It is supposed to be impossible to kill the gamemaster in a game. If the gamemaster dies, the game ends. However, it is possible to cripple or capture me, putting my power in the hands of someone else until another player comes along and frees me or until my servitude expires based on the power of the one attacking me. Online games are really nothing more than capture the flag in cyberspace.

I didn’t like the look of the approaching party. Three indistinct shapes came toward us from different directions. There was no good reason in a treasure-hunt game to approach the location of the gamemaster. I threw up shields just in time to ward off a blast attack. I wrapped an invisibility cloak around myself and DeepSix and transported to my north game tower. As soon as I was there, I unplugged from the network and closed up my computer. It was time to move.

I didn’t usually move so far from town, but I’d spotted a bus to the airport with on-board WiFi the third time I had to move. I was working hard to log on through different networks. The game had clearly devolved into two combative armies, each trying to stymie the other’s efforts to complete the quest. My own held more players and on average a little more power than the opposition. Each soldier in my army had already been killed once by the opposition and resurrected by me. The other side had collected a couple more people into its sphere, so there were nine. I had thirteen on my team, plus myself. I’d boosted each of their power levels. We split into two segments and I sent the top three gamers I knew on the quest. The rest of us continued to face off with the enemy. We could never see all of them at the same time, so there was no way to be sure if we were facing all of them at once or just a portion while the rest hunted treasure. I hadn’t seen or heard from CyClops since my first encounter, but I noted that he was still logged in. Lurking.

I used a whirlwind dispersal just before the bus arrived at the airport, sending my troops in different directions with enough fuel to make a jump when I called them back. The attacks of the enemy were growing in power. I was getting pretty sick of them, but in the gameworld, the game ceases to exist if the gamemaster breaks the rules. Still, in spite of the diversions I was creating, it seemed that the enemy was intent on capturing me. They were picking up my trail faster than I could cover it. My ruse of jumping from network to network for access wasn’t shaking them up. I was beginning to relate to Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. Who are those guys? After thirty minutes in the business center at baggage claim in the airport plugged into an Ethernet port under the desk and power to recharge the monster laptop, I realized I was going to have to come up with some new techniques. They were closing in again. I disconnected, ran out of the airport and headed for the train into town.

A good part about connecting on a bus or train was that you connect through a single network while on the move physically. The disadvantage was that if the opponent could identify what the network was, then they’d know your route to the next location. I elected not to log on to the Metro network as the train sped me back into town. I used the cellular connection when it was available to get messages to my troops, instructing each to head out on their own. It was obvious now that the enemy was after me. I felt it likely that the rest would not attract attention while the enemy focused its forces on me. Whoever they were, these guys were getting on my nerves and I was about to make a big leap. I shut down again until the train pulled into the University Street Station in the tunnel.

The Seattle Public Library closes at eight p.m., but I hiked up the hill anyway. I circled around to the north side and entered the parking garage under the library. Even though the library is closed, they don’t shut down the computer system overnight. It was three o’clock in the morning and I was pretty tired by this time. I climbed up to the top level of the garage and positioned myself next to the elevator shaft. Then I turned on the computer and connected to the library WiFi. The battery in the laptop was about exhausted so I used the tablet to connect and tap out my commands. This time I used remote access to get back to my laptop in the EFC office and logged onto the game from there. We’d see how good these bastards were at getting through a major corporate firewall to attack me.

I had a message on my dashboard as soon as I connected. “I got my eye on you.” It was CyClops’ tagline, and even though I’d seen him in the game only sporadically, it was a chilling reminder that Patterson was still watching. DeepSix was nowhere around as far as I could tell.

I scanned the area around me. I was in a beautiful glass tower from which I could see infinitely in any direction. It was beginning to look like I was safe, but before long, I could see the remainder of the enemy approaching the tower. They circled it at first, but then all gathered on one side. I was monitoring the other players, many of whom were dropping out because of the lateness of the hour. I was pretty exhausted myself. I told them I’d call a time again soon and we’d focus on finding the treasure rather than fighting a war. I’d be more careful who I let register to play. This was supposed to be about identifying who in EFC had decided to come out to play. That would tell me who was reading my keyboard in the office.

A message from DeepSix flashed on my screen: “They aren’t trying to capture!”

What the hell did that mean? Being preoccupied with the message caused me to miss the approaching enemy until they’d materialized right in front of my face, inside the firewall—inside my tower. There’s a sequence involved in terminating the game, unlike simply going invisible. I started frantically typing in the code, but I knew it was going to be too late before I could execute it. I was about to be killed.

There was a blinding flash in front of me. My shields held, but I was pretty much crippled and in the dark. I kept entering the code to terminate play for the night. Just before I hit enter, a message appeared on my dashboard.

“IGotUrBak.”

That was a player who wasn’t logged into my game.

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