Kill Code Read online

  Unlike the virtual reality version of Game of Shadows I’d created, this was more than a simulation. It felt so real, from the chilly breeze on the back of my neck to the way Relic looked exactly like himself. He stood there to my right, not in a hospital gown with a catheter, but in full space armor, a massive assault rifle in his hands.

  “What’ya think?” he asked.

  “This is… holy eggo waffle balls,” I quoted a character from the game, shaking my head as I took it all in. “How?”

  “It’s just a bit of the game you created, with a lot more resources behind it and some world-wide cooperation. The World Council got behind the idea of these sort of proxy wars—if you can count avatars being our proxies—and made it happen.”

  “Damn, I should’ve gotten them more involved in my game when I was making it.” I walked up to him and, ignoring the shot that hit a few paces off and exploded rock, touched his cheek. When he laughed, I said, “Sorry. But damn, feels real, even.”

  “That’d be the sensors.” He motioned up the hill, and there was my favorite character in her space armor and flowing robes, blasting the hell out of a mech and then turning to cleave another in two with her massive, electricity-generating sword.

  “Sam?” I asked.

  “Just for you, pal,” Relic said. “I insisted on this little practice sim for when you showed up, and your partner Dave was more than happy to oblige. So… you ready?”

  “Colonel, I was born ready for this.”

  Together we charged up the hill, and just like in my game, I hit the button at the side of my neck so that a helmet unfolded and covered my head. My faceplate lit up with readings and stats of the enemy and friendlies, and warned me of an incoming shot to my left. I dodged right, clicking on my thrusters in the process, and nearly plowed right into Relic.

  “Controls take some getting used to,” he warned, catching me and helping me stabilize.

  “This is all with those sensors?” I asked.

  “Mostly with the mind,” he said. “But yes, when certain muscles tense up, it helps to better recognize the brain patterns. Watch this.”

  He ran and jumped, kicked off the rock face to his right, and then hit his thrusters so that he rose into the air, almost flying. His shout of joy attracted several of the enemy, though, so that by the time he touched back on the ground, he was hit and thrown back, landing behind me. I flung myself against the rock face to my forward left as a barrage of shots went off, followed by an explosion that would’ve sent Relic’s body parts raining down on me. But on impact, he vanished into thousands of tiny pixels.

  I stared at where he’d been, so not used to that in an environment that felt so real.

  “It’s okay,” his voice said through my comms. “I’ll be back at the spawn point in a few seconds. Keep moving on, I’ll catch up.”

  “But to be clear, it doesn’t work that way when we go to war?”

  “That’s a big, fat, unfortunate negative.” He chuckled. “Believe me, I do not want to be the poor sucker sent back first when that kicks off. Imagine having to watch your brothers win the war for you while you hang out at base?”

  “That another jab at the fact that I’m not infantry?” I asked, recalling how he used to give me such a hard time.

  Untitled

  “Me? Nah.” He chuckled, giving it away.

  “Tell you what,” I said as I turned and sprinted up the rocky path, leaping from one ledge to the next and then throwing myself down to unload on an unsuspecting space pirate. “When my bullets take out an enemy, nobody cares what my MOS is.”

  “I’ll drink to that,” he said, and a glance back showed he had respawned and was running my way. “You know, when the war’s won, of course.”

  “You know it.” I turned, aimed in, and shot again.

  Sam fluttered by, slashing at another mech like a space ninja. And then I spotted one of my favorites—Kwon, the Republic of Korea Marine, tearing it up with a massive machine gun. I charged forward, shooting at the same enemy, whooping at the thrill of being part of this.

  “You, soldier,” Sam said, turning to me and pointing. “We need you up front for the charge. Follow me!”

  “Marine,” I shouted after her as she and Kwon led the way, but that didn’t stop me. Apparently, the sim wasn’t perfect.

  “Like I said, just a little something we whipped together,” Relic said, suddenly landing next to me. Apparently, his maneuver from before had worked, now that we’d cleared out some of the enemy for him. “Not A.I., so they won’t be able to address you by your service or whatever.”

  “Something to think about for the next patch,” I said with a wink, and then it was the two of us with Sam, Kwon, and the rest of a large group. My attention was divided between the thrill of blasting the enemy and watching the characters from my game kick ass at my side as if they’d been real all this time.

  We tore through them as the dragon above blasted the enemy ship to bits, and then it was over. I was still laughing when the sky lit up with fireworks that spelled out “Victory,” and we were pulled back into the simulation room.

  A warm bag against my leg reminded me that the catheter was still there, and I’d apparently used it.

  “Good stuff, huh?” Relic said, grinning from his little stall as the curtains lowered over his lower half and the doctor did his thing, assistants removing the sensors.

  “I’d get one of these at home, if I didn’t have to worry about the whole tube up my dick thing.” A female Marine gave me a frown, and I said, “Sorry.”

  “They’ll all have them in a couple hours,” Relic said, waving it off. “Catheters, that is. Not dicks.”

  “Haven’t lost that sense of humor at least,” I said as the doctor and assistants set me free. They finished and I stepped out to join him, then we went to the other room to dress.

  “A final meal,” he said, gesturing me along. “Come on, into my office. I had them get some takeout from our old haunt. You remember, I’m sure.”

  “Ah, damn. You didn’t?” There was this place in Carlsbad that had the best steaks. Apparently, the owner had brought it over from D.C., kind of like a franchise but only one of them, because he’d loved the steaks so much when he was in school there. “Annie’s Steak House?” I asked, hopeful.

  “Best rib eye in the world,” he replied with a nod. We went up two flights of stairs, skipping the elevator because he said our legs could use the flow of blood, even though the machine was supposed to help with that.

  As soon as we stepped into the hallway, that beautiful scent of perfectly peppered steak hit my nose, and my mouth started watering at the idea of biting into meat that melted like butter. Sure enough, we stepped into his gung-ho office, complete with plaques and pictures galore, and they had a table waiting for us, with three others there ready to eat. On the far wall was a large poster with a retro-looking eagle swooping down, behind it the Eagle, Globe, and Anchor. Newer posters showed some of First Recon in the most advanced body armor—it was impressive how far they’d gone, and ironic that now they’d be essentially fighting in hospital gowns while sitting.

  “This is the wonder boy?” a woman asked as she stood and came over to shake my hand. She was on the older side, with white hair combed back in a very regal fashion, wearing a navy-blue suit and jewelry to match.

  “Indeed it is,” Relic said. “Madam Secretary, meet Major Ryan Ellis. Ellis, this is Secretary Green.”

  We shook hands and he introduced me to the others, one of whom was the head of the CIA, while Green was Secretary of Defense. The third was a woman whose position I couldn’t figure out, though I accidentally caught a glimpse of her foot moving up Relic’s leg when I dropped my napkin.

  He grinned and shrugged, realizing I’d seen, and conversation turned to the state of the world.

  “It’s just so amazing,” Secretary Green said. “A hundred years ago, could you have imagined that we’d be fighting a war via simulation?”

  “Back
when kids were just starting to get into VR and AR,” the head of the CIA said, a man whose named had slipped my mind the moment it entered. Thinking about it, I had to wonder if that was part of his deal—he was unimposing, normal height with brown hair and brown eyes. It was probably Smith or Jones, or something along those lines.

  “What about those Marines out there getting briefed right now?” Secretary Green said. “Can you imagine, training and fighting… then having nothing to do until this comes along? They might not have ever even played a game, and now the whole of their fighting career going forward could be this simulation.”

  “It won’t matter,” Relic said as he made a face—I was guessing the woman’s foot had found a sweet spot. “They won’t be playing a game. Once you’re in, it’s like reality. As far as your body knows, you’re being pushed to the limits just like in any other deployment.”

  “Amazing,” the secretary said, shaking her head and going for another bite of the steak.

  “The simulation or the meal?”

  She laughed. “Both. Truly, both.”

  “What I don’t get,” I said, glancing around at them and setting my fork down, “is how we can be so sure it’s safe. I mean, I know we can say that we have the best of the best working it and checking for penetration paths, but…”

  “But we have the best of the best on it,” Relic said with a grin.

  “And when he says that,” Secretary Green added, “he really does mean the best.”

  “Working it, checking for penetration paths,” Relic added. He bit his lip and I frowned, annoyed that he was letting this happen at such an important moment—especially during my questioning.

  “Maybe if we took more time,” I suggested. “Made completely sure?”

  “We have made sure, and we are,” the secretary replied, a scowl creeping onto her face. “But here’s the situation—time, we don’t have. You want to tell the people who live in those countries the Eastern Ascent Company governs that they will just have to take their new curfews, laws that tell them they can’t travel abroad anymore… laws that specify what classes they can and can’t procreate with?”

  “No, Madam Secretary,” I said, not quite sure if that was the correct way to address her.

  “What we’re up against here…” She shook her head, staring at the tablecloth. “We’re doing what must be done. Fighting the good fight, and I’m proud of you Marines.”

  “We all are,” the head of the CIA said, and put his hand on the leg of the other woman. My eyes darted to the ring on her finger.

  Typical Relic. He’d never been one to stay out of other people’s relationships. It had almost cost him our friendship, when I’d caught him hitting on my wife shortly before we got married, but were already together. Since she’d slapped him and then he’d let me punch him in the face for it, I didn’t hold much of a grudge. We ended up becoming close friends while I was in. The type of friend you know will always have your back, but you’d never in a thousand years introduce to your sister.

  Secretary Green noticed the hand too, then turned to me and eyed my wedding ring. “Your wife must be proud.”

  An awkward silence fell as Relic frowned. I must’ve made some sort of face, though I tried not to. My other hand moved to the ring, rotating it on my finger.

  “Secretary Green, his wife…” Relic looked uneasily at me, not knowing if it was his place to tell her that Donica was dead.

  “No, it’s perfectly fine,” I said. “I believe she is proud. But it’s hard to know for sure, as she isn’t with us anymore.”

  Secretary Green’s face contorted as she realized the situation. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

  “No,” I cut her off, holding up a hand. “Going into this, I think having her on my mind makes sense. Some people find the pain crippling, I find it enabling. Every time I want to give up, I imagine life with her if that drunken asshat hadn’t gotten behind the wheel that night. I think about the look in her eyes when she was proud of me, and imagine her looking down at me from Heaven with that same look.”

  “Ah, a believer then,” Relic said.

  I cocked my head, considering it, then said, “A hoper.”

  “Hoper?”

  “As in I certainly hope there’s something out there for us after we die. If it’s Heaven and that’s where my wife is, perfect. And I’ll tell you this much—have another meal like this waiting for me if I get taken out during the sim, and this will be just fine for my version of Heaven.”

  The others nodded, no longer looking at me with pity, but admiration.

  Relic raised a glass of sparkling water, as our minds weren’t allowed to be polluted before going into the sim, and said, “To our own little slice of Heaven.”

  We all cheered to that and finished eating, allowing the conversation to move back to small talk. My eyes kept darting to the clock on Relic’s desk. Almost midnight.

  The perfect meal was over. It was time to go fight our war.

  4

  This time I knew what I was getting into when they strapped me in and did their thing, and even the pinch downstairs wasn’t so bad. In truth, I was anxious to get back into the sim. I knew it would be nothing like the Game of Shadows one, but still, knowing tech like this existed and not partaking of it felt like a crime.

  With the thought of my wife heavy on my mind again, I closed my eyes, imagining her there in front of me. She would kiss me, hold my face in one hand, and tell me how much she loved me. She’d always understood the sacrifice, always understood what it meant to me to serve my country.

  The only move I always wondered how she’d feel about was my choice to leave it all behind and go into gaming. But she wasn’t with me anymore, and as strong as I was, I just hadn’t been able to keep going. Grief changes us all, and the more I thought about it, the more I was certain she wouldn’t fault me for wanting a little fun to help fill the hole in my heart.

  A screen appeared in the front of the room—President Nicholson in her red suit, her combed back, black hair shining in the cameras. She turned to us and said, “Marines, I salute you. We would have gone on forever without war if possible. We would live in a world of peace, where everyone is free and nobody is held back by their class. But there are others who do not embrace these ideals, who would put themselves above the rights of others, and they must be stopped. In a modern society where a single act of war could easily wipe out the entire human race, you are leading the world in future conflict resolution. For this, we thank you. When you go in there this night, think of all the families at home watching, and all the families across the globe unable to watch because of hateful dictators who won’t allow it. Now we say, ‘no more!’”

  She paused for a moment as Marines shouted, “OORAH!” When they were done, she smiled and said, “Tonight we take the first step toward making it so. But remember what’s at stake here, because if the Great Americas were to somehow lose, it would be devastating. Not only to our economy, though reparations would indeed do their damage. But to our way of life, to our very freedom. The World Council of Justice will see the outcome of this war leads to change. It must be change for the better, a step forward rather than three steps back. Make this happen, Marines. For your country, for me, for those you love, and most importantly, for everyone’s future. We’re counting on you. Go forth and conquer.”

  As cheers rose up again, the image on the screen transitioned to her turning and waving to crowds gathered on the White House lawn in front of large screens. Apparently, there would be a midnight viewing there, likely by politicians and such. Then the image faded and was replaced with the map Captain Wingate had shown me earlier, along with a news announcer discussing possible strategies the two sides would take. This would be our commentator, it seemed.

  I closed my eyes, blocking it all out—and there I was with Donica at the bank of a river, dancing beneath the stars to music she hummed. That night stuck with me, an evening when the nearby restaurant had messed up our reservation
, but we’d made the best of it by having an impromptu picnic.

  She leaned into me. I held her tight… and then the image was interrupted by a booming, “Ten… Nine… Eight…” The Marines were calling out the numbers along with the screen, and when we hit one, the screen lit up with fireworks over the White House, illuminating the crowds cheering us on.

  All around the world people were tuning in, preparing to watch the first simulated war in history. Here I was, playing my part in it. A final look around the room showed anticipation, bravery… the world’s finest.

  The headsets went on, and I was back in blackness. The light flashed a couple of times, then vanished.

  The smell of pines hit me first, then a gust of wind brought a scent like fresh rain. A moon shone down on us from the middle of the sky, reflecting off the damp grass at our feet. It was all so real. I knelt, taking off my glove, and could feel the grass, smooth and sharp to the touch.

  “You going to make love to this place, or come fight the war with me?” Relic said, grinning at my side.

  “When it was the scene from my game, it felt real but still… fantastical? Now this—this could be anywhere on Earth… wow.”

  “We can gush over it all night long, or ensure those bastards with the Eastern Ascent Company make amends. As much as this is a fake war, it’s more real than anything we’ve done so far.”

  I laughed, then saw he was serious. “Go get ‘em, Colonel.”

  Relic grinned and called over his officers. As he was the senior officer on the ground, he passed down orders, and soon we were moving in teams. Several smaller teams went ahead as scouts, while a large group of us made slower progress, moving up the diagonal center to be prepared to slip either way and intercept them. This wasn’t about taking the enemy’s base or stealing a flag, but annihilation, and we had to remember that.

  “How’s this work?” Derrins said, as we started out. He pulled out his Ka-Bar and slashed the air with it, then thrust forward.