Читать книгу Soda Pop Soldier - Nick Cole - Страница 8
ОглавлениеThe Sunday Night Game starts and I’m tasked with clearing out a small village of WonderSoft insurgents as the battle lines attempt to coalesce. The insurgents are players who’ve volunteered, by paying their monthly WarWorld Live subscription, to fight for WonderSoft. The insurgents crossed the Song Hua River downstream and have been ambushing ColaCorp units using a small village up in the jungle highlands as a base.
I haven’t lost any troops because I like to play it safe, and all my grunts are fairly leveled up. They don’t make many of the mistakes the basic AI-controlled grunts often do. So we take the village and neutralize five insurgents. I check my bonus pay on all five as soon as WhippySFX, the last WonderSoft insurgent, goes down in a hail of gunfire near the village’s central raised hut. At twenty per, I make a cool hundred. Not everything I need, but every bit helps.
“PerfectQuestion, this is Six; what’s your status?” I switch from my CommandPad to BattleChat and reply.
“We’re finished here, whaddya got for us next?”
There’s a pause. I wonder if the connection’s dropped, or if we’re even being jammed by WonderSoft’s electronic warfare units. Then, “PerfectQuestion,” says RangerSix in his signature matter-of-fact drawl, “I need you to order your unit to link up with ShogunSmile four clicks west of your position. Give him command authority …”
I’ve been fired.
Then, “I need you to log in to OpsDeck for a briefing, Question. We’ve had a superlab opportunity open up for us, and I need you to take command of the operation. I’m countin’ on you, son. Get this done quick and clean.”
Not fired.
I order my unit to pack up and move out to ShogunSmile’s AO. Three minutes later I’m in the OpsDeck screen and going through the briefing on the superlab.
“Scouts have discovered a hidden complex up-country in the mountains near the city of Song Hua,” begins the briefing program avatar, a military admin type. The high-res photos show a small complex nestled beneath a mountain that’s more a giant oblong piece of rock erupting from the jungle than anything else. Stunted trees cling to one of its misty sides. The other side is a sheer rock face above the complex.
“Satellite imagery,” continues the briefing, “indicates the complex is a laboratory-class facility where dangerous and illegal superscience research has recently been conducted.”
WonderSoft will want this, but ColaCorp needs this. Whatever it is. These labs can provide bonus game-changing tech. No doubt WonderSoft will go for it, even if it’s just to deny us the asset.
The briefing camera, mounted on a recon drone, overflies the facility revealing a night-vision look at what we’re going into. It’s an open perimeter and a jumble of squat buildings in two adjacent locations. One location has the distinct look of a dropship landing pad, but slightly different from any I’ve seen before. The other looks too industrial to be anything but a lab. There’s a construction crane on the far side of the lab complex. The complex is mostly composed of octagonal interconnected modules that lead to a main multistoried building. The briefing asks me to choose which type of unit I’ll request to take into the superlab.
I tell it to give me the light infantry template.
The briefing hesitates, then takes me to the unit loadout screen. I try to activate my personal unit, Delta Company, but it won’t let me. “All main force ColaCorp units engaged at this time,” it tells me in its calm, computer voice. The only option available is to pull unknown players from the ColaCorp Special Forces reserve unit.
Great. I have to use amateurs. I stare at the facility map again. There’ll be three maps. There’re always three maps. I’m probably looking at the first one. So what’s the game?
Death match? Domination? Infection?
I check the ColaCorp Special Forces reserve roster. Currently there are over a hundred thousand plus ColaCorp fan-players waiting, worldwide, to join the network televised fight.
“Isolate veteran-status players and above.”
“Done,” replies the briefing avatar.
“Isolate light infantry skill sets.”
“Done.”
I want to tell the avatar to remove the ones with poor social skills and negative sportsmanship reviews, but sometimes those ratings are just the results of complaints filed by sore losers. Sometimes being good at online combat doesn’t necessarily make you great at being human.
“Isolate kill counts ten thousand and above.” Sure it’s WarWorld Live kills, the home game played on console with other amateurs, but ten thousand kills means they’re serious about the game and they’ve got some skills. That’s when I started getting noticed by professional teams.
“What’s my pool?” I ask.
“47,754 players meet your requirements,” replies the avatar.
“Isolate on-target percentage. Above 50 percent.”
I don’t even ask how many that leaves. I just want shooters now. “All right, fill all five squads from those requirements.”
A moment later the avatar sends invites to all players fitting my requirements. The first fifty to respond and log in to the OpsDeck are going in-game during prime time with me to take the superlab.
Within seconds the rosters are full.
“Please choose tactical insertion method,” the avatar tells me.
I check the map again.
I check my options. I’ve only got one. Dropship. In the map, I set the spinning holograph of the LZ marker down on the landing pad. There are three back-blast fences that surround the site. We can use those for cover before going into the main complex.
WonderSoft, on the other hand, can go in any number of ways. They’ve always got options because they’ve always got money.
Next I choose my weapons. I select my standard loadout for close-quarter matches like this. I take a gray and graphite black-striped Colt M4X assault rifle with extended banana clips and holographic tactical sights. Three dots, predator style. For my sidearm I take a nickel-plated long-barrel .45 loaded with hollow points. I also take five grenades: three flash-bangs, two smoke. I take my personal avatar skin, which is okayed by ColaCorp for tactical instance maps like this. ColaCorp jungle-pattern camo cargo pants and green tank top T-shirt. Jungle boots. Shaved head and a camo pattern I call SnakeFace. My guy even has stubble. Like me. Except the avatar skin is based on some action hero from the last century. Guy named Schwarzenegger. I’m big on last-century stuff. Things were better then.
“Going live in fifteen seconds … ,” says the briefing avatar as it begins the countdown to tactical map insertion.
I switch to BattleChat. Before saying anything, I bring up the unit roster. Most of the player IDs have been set to the default position by the network. Can’t be showing all kinds of disgusting images to the entire world. I check the names. They are the usual assortment of half-thought-through, misspelled crud that marks amateurs. Some outright obscene name choices, almost half, have been changed by the network to “Player” then a random number.
That’ll teach ’em to take this seriously. It’s their one shot at going online to fight in front of the whole world and no one will ever know who they are because the network changed their tag and used a placeholder name instead.
On-screen I see the red-lit interior of the dropship Albatross. I pan right and look out through the cockpit canopy. We’re cutting through a thick miasma of dark blue and black clouds. Rain assaults the windshield. I try to get a look at the facility from the air, but all I catch are tiny twinkling lights and shadowy buildings.
Moments later we’re down on the landing pad and rushing from the Albatross. Players head away from the dropship and go prone in a circular perimeter.
So far so good, and I didn’t even need to tell them to do that.
The dropship’s engines spool up and the craft lifts off and away from us, cutting its lights and retracting its landing gears as it disappears into the rain and clouds above.
King of the Hill appears across my screen.
I hate this type of match. Means we’ve got to secure the access point to the next map and hold it for three minutes. A King of the Hill match always turns into a shooting gallery for the side that doesn’t want to hold the access point.
“Listen up,” I say over BattleChat. “Name’s PerfectQuestion and this is the op …”
Meanwhile I’m selecting the streak rewards I’ll receive after each kill plateau.
“We’ve got to secure the entrance into this lab. That’s Map One. WonderSoft will try and do the same thing. Your first job, always, is to kill WonderSoft. Next, identify the entrance to the lab. Last, we’ll hold that entrance for three minutes. This is a movement to contact for now, squad tactics. I hope you took weapons you can run and gun with, ’cause we ain’t fightin’ no defense. Okay?” No one replies. “All right, now’s your chance to show ColaCorp something.”
In the dim blue light of the storm, a wild collection of jungle combat warriors rises from the tall grass near the LZ. I use my CommandPad to organize five squads of ten. Sure, we’re all wearing the same faded ColaCorp jungle green so that we look like a team and are only slightly different than WonderSoft’s standard digital gray jungle-camo pattern, but the similarity ends there. Some avatars have shaved heads. Some are wearing boonie hats. One guy even has a K-pot from World War Two. It’s all stuff they’ve either bought through WarWorld’s online store or earned as achievements. I couldn’t care less how they look. I’m just hoping they’ve leveled up their weapons. I’d hate to be going into this with someone using the basic unmodded AK-2000 you start WarWorld Live with. But I quickly notice many of the weapons are skinned with high-tech paint jobs and scoped with state-of-the-art targeting systems. That bodes well for impending current events.
The network feed goes hot. Right now the game director is cutting in to watch the action. This superlab objective is critical, but not to today’s battle. That’s happening, win or lose, somewhere else. But the tech the lab might yield could be a game changer later, if ColaCorp pays to develop it, in the strategic outcome of the ColaCorp campaign against WonderSoft for Eastern Highlands. But we have to get it first.
I break the first three squads off into a group and form a wedge. The other two squads I put in reserve behind the main body and order them not to move until I tell them where the action is. With First Squad on the left flank, Second leading the tip of the wedge, and Third Squad on the right, we move out from the LZ, heading through the wet mud and dark for the dimly outlined facility. Low-hanging mist shrouds the tops of the high mountains. Over ambient I hear nothing but the slap of rain as it sluices down from the tops of buildings and into the muddy streets below.
“Move forward,” I say over BattleChat. “Watch for targets; call ’em as you get ’em.”
“Lock and load, rock and roll!” screams some hillbilly named SonnyJim over the chat. Another player, LilStreet, opens up his feed. Hard-core drum and bass rap starts pouring out across BattleChat. The first spoken lines are about murdering hoes who cheat and being pushed down by white “so-sigh-et-tee” while someone chants “Monee- Monee- Monee” over and over. I cut his feed.
It’s so far so good as we move beyond the back-blast fences and onto the main street of the complex. The pouring rain begins to let up as a small breeze shifts the grass and some hanging industrial heavy tow chains nearby. They creak and jingle while our boots suck at the wet mud. It’s only a matter of time before we engage WonderSoft and then all bets are off on whether I can keep everyone under control long enough to find and hold the access point.
“Hey, Question?” says a player tagged AwesomeSauce15. A girl’s voice. Sounds young. I can hear the bubblegum snap in the background of her mic. “Sign over here says this is a bioweapon research facility. Weyland-Yutani. Never heard of ’em.”
Smart. She’s looking for clues. That’s the other half of this type of match: solve the puzzle. Most people think WarWorld’s all about shooting at one another. It is. But smart players use everything they can learn about the map to then shoot each other.
“Noted,” I whisper over the chat. “Tighten up, Third.”
We move farther down the main street of the complex. There are a few abandoned construction vehicles on the street. Their wheels are sunk in the mud.
“No sign of any Softies,” whispers Bronco24, point man for Second Squad. We pass the first two buildings guarding either side of the small muddy street leading up to the main hub of the complex.
That’s when it goes down.
“Comin’ in from above,” says AwesomeSauce15 as she cuts loose with three short bursts from her HK Mini submachine gun. I check the sky and see nothing but cloud cover, then, drifting down through the mist, I see WonderSoft troops with night-gray parachutes blossoming above their avatars. They must have had the Base Jump option and gone off the top of the rock that overlooks this place. Bullets begin to strike at the wet mud all around us.
“First Squad, take that alley on the left. Third, go to the right. Secure both ends of the alley and set up a base of fire. Second, on me!”
I actually hear someone say, “What squad am I in?” But it’s too late for that.
“Squads Four and Five, hold the entrance to the landing pad. Stand by, I’ll advise you shortly on where to concentrate your fire.”
I go wide right behind the building. I check my CommandPad as we hustle into the dim wet alley. I’ve already lost two out of Second. The kid playing hard-core gangsta rap got it first. Probably for the best.
The firefight begins in earnest as WonderSoft gets onto most of the roof of the main complex. It’s not the worst scenario. I can handle that as long as we control the ground. Sometimes coming in the boring old way, out of a dropship and then in on foot, is the best way. I can control my troops and keep the unit cohesive for a time before it gets all “tag with guns.” WonderSoft’s arrival had some surprise value in it, but they didn’t get much out of it. Now they’re strung out all over the rooftops. We, on the other hand are still together, which allows us to work together.
“Who’s got sniper rifles?” I say over the chat.
Bucklebee and IrishRogue tell me they’re each carrying. “Good,” I say. “Fall back and circle wide through the jungle. Get up on to that construction crane at the far end of the facility and get us some cover fire going. Anyone with a heavy, watch the road ahead.”
I scan the other side of the street and see Third Squad already moving into the other buildings and engaging targets.
So they’re useless to me.
“First and Second, bound up the left side of the street and try to sweep this end of the complex. Watch the rooftops. Second Squad, moving now. Follow me.”
I push out into the muddy alleyway running alongside the main street. I take a couple of shots at a WonderSoft grunt on a nearby platform and hit him in the legs. He goes forward off the roof and falls into the mud farther down the street with a wet splat. Most of Second has followed me, and while someone uses a couple of grenades on a nearby roof, I check the dead WonderSoft player in the mud and realize we’re facing a Special Teams unit. The guy’s wearing a grinning skeleton motorcycle mask over his avatar’s face. WonderSoft must’ve spent some dough to get this unit involved in the fight, which sucks because it means, yes, they’re amateurs, but they’ve also trained together.
“Question,” says AwesomeSauce over BattleChat, “I can see a couple of guys from Third on the other side of the road. They’re about even with us.”
So maybe they are useful, jury’s still out.
The gunfire from both sides is deafening.
Ahead, there’s a small street and then what looks to be some kind of garage or hangar across the way. I check the CommandPad and see that Third Squad is down to half strength.
“Okay, First,” I call out over BattleChat. “Poppin’ smoke. Get ready to move up the street. We’ll cover you from here.” I scroll my mouse and right-click a smoke grenade. I toss it out into the main street to cover First’s movement. WonderSoft begins to fire into the thick, erupting smoke. Everyone with me begins to unload on the rooftops.
I get a head shot on one.
Now I have two. I need one more for my first streak reward.
“AwesomeSauce,” I call out over the chat. “Check that garage across the road and tell me if it’s clear.”
I watch as her avatar, a lithe, young, impossibly perfect-figured female soldier wearing standard-issue fatigues, oversize boots, and a cocked jungle hat with a black feather in it dashes across the road and into the hangar. A second later I hear the tight braaap of her lethal HK Mini.
“Clear now,” she says breathlessly over the chat.
“Good work. Get ready to move into that hangar, Second, as soon as First says they’re in position.”
I check the CommandPad and see Third’s now completely decimated. I’ve lost two with Second Squad, and First hasn’t lost anyone.
“Four and Five, stand by to move up,” I say over the chat.
“Covering,” screams someone from First. Then, “Suppressive fire on that two-story at our one o’clock.” Someone’s got leadership skills. I make a mental note to watch the replay and find out who took charge of First.
“Move, Second, into the hangar!”
The gunfire from First is cacophonic, but we still lose a guy, Player9000177, as we cross the street firing and race for the low dark mouth of the hangar entrance. Once we’re inside, I tell what’s left of Second to watch the exits.
I bring up my CommandPad, watching as my avatar exchanges the smoking M4X for the battered CommandPad with the nicked and camouflaged edges. Game designers like to make things look frontline authentic. The satellite feed shows me where my squads are and any known WonderSoft positions that have recently fired weapons or been observed by any of my troops. WonderSoft appears strung out across the complex. We’re concentrated in three areas—First on the street, Second with me in the hangar, and the rest back at the LZ. Good. Now it’s time to find the “hill” and try to be king of it for at least three minutes.
Even though WonderSoft is firing on the hangar, I’m able to stand back and use my tactical monocular to scan parts of the complex. If I happen to land on the King of the Hill entrance, I should get an intel analysis timer. But it doesn’t happen.
I need my first streak reward.
Baaanngg! Suddenly my screen turns a blinding white as ambient sound dissolves in a high-pitched whine.
Someone’s just flash-banged us.
My first thought is that WonderSoft is trying to take the hangar.
Seconds later my screen shows me shifting, distorted double images of my surroundings. Someone fires wildly as tracers blur across my vision. I hit Z and throw my avatar to the floor of the hangar, watching my screen throw wild ghost images everywhere.
“Boycott TarMart because of their racialist policies!” screams someone on my team. When my on-screen vision returns, I can see that the someone is SGTSmokeLoveWeed, and he’s preparing to pop another flash-bang and blind us all. I set my three-pronged aiming reticle over his chest and ventilate him with a short burst from my M4X. His avatar’s body sprays blood spatter across the wall of the hangar, ragdolling from each impact, jerking in time to some grotesquely hip dance. He’s dead and out of the game before he even hits the wall.
Great!
Third Squad was useless to begin with, and now I get a bonus round of “let’s take this very public opportunity to make a personal statement at the expense of my online job.”
Don’t people ever get tired of protesting? Not everything’s a March on Selma moment.
AwesomeSauce is hit, but she’s not dead.
“What’re we gonna do, Question?” she asks me over the chat.
Yeah, I ask myself. What are we gonna do?
One of Second Squad took a Medic perk and he’s throwing out medical packs emblazoned with the red-and-white ColaCorp logo. In the dim little hangar, AwesomeSauce’s health starts to return.
Surprise, surprise, terminating SGT-whatever has rewarded me with the kill I need to start my first streak reward. The refs were on that one. Good call.
Now I have access to extra equipment, supplies, air strikes, and a whole host of options depending on which streaks I’ve selected to unlock each time I reach a kill tier.
I activate my first streak. A moment later the gritty voice of the unseen game announcer calls out, “Drone Recon, inbound.”
I scan the overcast skies and see the shadowy outline of the spindly recon drone circling the complex. I check my CommandPad.
Recon Drone Intel package available.
I click on it.
Two reports.
I can see everyone on the battlefield. WonderSoft is concentrated around a small area west of our position on the street. The main building separates us. They’re moving toward it. The rest of the Softies are on the buildings all around us. I distribute the report to my squads, and seconds later I hear our two snipers begin to fire from the distant construction crane. I watch as a Softie blinks out of play on my CommandPad.
The other report reveals the entire tactical map, where the King of the Hill zones are and also other possible intel locations. I spot a King of the Hill zone at an entrance to the main building just ahead of us, a loading dock. But there’s another entrance on the other side of the facility right where that smaller group of Softies is heading. Back near the landing pad there’s another small secondary intel site, simply titled Sulaco Uplink.
I don’t have time for that. We’ve either got to crack that King of the Hill zone at the end of the street or somehow stop WonderSoft from starting the clock on theirs.
“Listen up, Fourth … I need you to double-time it to the location I’m marking on your HUDs now. That’s the King of the Hill zone WonderSoft’s gonna try and use. I need you to stage here.” I draw a red circle behind some smaller buildings near the WonderSoft door. “Fifth, I need you to move to this location and put some fire onto that target. Once you’re in position, open up on ’em. Fourth, as soon as Fifth Squad works the target over, move in and finish off any survivors. You shouldn’t have much resistance between here and there, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t a Softie out there running Stealth perks, so watch the shadows.”
“Question.” It’s AwesomeSauce. “We can’t take that zone at the loading dock with just what’s left of First and Second.”
“Have to,” I reply.
I watch the map as both the fourth and fifth squads move out to intercept WonderSoft. In five minutes it should all go down.
“All right, First, we’re gonna need you to keep all the Softies heads down for a minute. We’re moving all the way up the street to the loading dock. Once we get there, we’ll hack it and start the zone. Try and keep them off us.”
“Roger that, Question,” says a guy named BubbasChoice.
“Well, AwesomeSauce, we’ve gotta take the hill, that’s the name of the game. You with me?”
“I’ll go first.” Her tone is bored. Flat. Condemning.
“Anyone got a streak goin’ yet?” I ask over BattleChat.
“I got Death from Above,” says one of the snipers. “Three kills already.”
And you haven’t activated it yet, I’m thinking. “Could you go ahead and use it?” I ask him.
“Sure ’nuff.”
A moment later I hear a low-flying aircraft high above the battlefield.
“Air strike, inbound,” warns the game announcer.
“We need to hit the entrance now,” I shout over BattleChat. “Go! Go! Go! Everyone take the hill. Snipers, do what you can to give us some cover.”
I rush out into the street, beating AwesomeSauce. Hoping at least one person will follow me, I head toward an abandoned cargo truck canted in the middle of the muddy street, firing short bursts at where I think WonderSoft might be. I reach the truck and pin my avatar against the side. Bullets are flying everywhere, smacking into the side of the truck on galvanized, crushed soda can notes. I can hear the loud, distant cracks of our snipers’ rifles. I lean out from one side of the truck and watch as most of Second Squad rushes up the muddy street around me, heading for the loading dock. Three of them get hit instantly. I draw a bead on one of the WonderSoft shooters and double-tap him in the chest.
I need four more kills for my next streak.
What’s left of Second is with me on the truck.
“Keep firing, First, until we reach the door,” I call out over the chat.
“Hey, Question, truck’s on fire,” notes AwesomeSauce.
She’s right. In seconds it’ll explode.
“Get away!”
Everyone sprints toward the loading dock.
The truck explodes behind us.
Casualties.
Above us, a small close-air-support aircraft is making missile strikes on the Softies near us—Death from Above. One rocket goes straight down into a building ahead of us, and a second later the entire building explodes, sending a shock wave of debris and flame out at us. My avatar is knocked back and onto the muddy street. I take 50 percent health damage.
I’m up and moving just steps away from the shadows of the loading dock. I make it to the loading dock. A small sign near the security door welcomes everyone to Hadley’s Hope.
First Squad is firing from behind a concrete wall down the street.
I hack the lock, watching as my avatar inserts his high-tech hacking tool into the computer lock and starts the operation. Fifteen seconds later, the game announces, “King of the Hill starts now.”
The clock starts, and we’ve got three minutes to go.
“Enemy Drive-by, inbound!” yells the in-game streaks’ menacing announcer.
“Take cover!” I call out needlessly.
Down the street, a low-riding flat windowless APC with thick ceramic tires and a small swivel-mounted Hauser minigun turret races toward us.
I’ve never seen an APC like that on a streak.
I briefly wonder if it’s some kind of new WonderSoft vehicle, just as I hear Bluuuuuurrrr; it’s the gun erupting in a loud, high-pitched sound as it sends hundreds of miniballs ripping into what remains of Second Squad—except for me, AwesomeSauce, and another guy. And seconds later, that guy’s heavy machine gun–wielding avatar disappears in a shimmering haze of lead as his body receives hundreds of hits almost instantly. AwesomeSauce switches out her HK Mini for the RPG on her back. She fires fast and skips the RPG off the muddy road with a small splash and right into the undercarriage of the APC. It explodes upward and lands on its side with a metal-rending crash as it begins to burn.
“That worked” she yells over BattleChat as if I need to be told.
The King of the Hill clock is already up thirty seconds. Two and half minutes to go.
For the next two minutes it’s a shooting gallery and we’re the ducks. WonderSoft’s elite unit keeps us pinned down behind the narrow confines of the loading dock, making sure they keep up the fire while they reload. We take sporadic shots and I get two of them.
I need one more kill to activate my next streak.
I check the CommandPad and see that Fourth Squad is engaging the WonderSoft unit on the other side of the facility. WonderSoft has started the clock on their King of the Hill zone. For some reason, Fifth never ended up where I told them to and they’re moving in way too soon and too close on WonderSoft.
“Enemy Gunship, inbound,” warns the game announcer.
If they drop it in on us, we’re finished. I hear the approaching engines of the gunship. It’s an HK. A hunter-killer. It streaks over the darkened sky and begins to hover above WonderSoft’s zone. Its auto cannons roar to life and I watch on the CommandPad as both fourth and fifth squads are wiped out.
One minute.
I spot a distant Softie shifting position and drop my sights over him, squeezing off a quick burst. I hit him, and he keeps running. I track a second longer, lead him, then fire again. This time he goes down, and I’ve got my last kill.
And my next streak reward.
I call in an Auto Gun Drop and just after the game announcer says, “Auto Gun package, inbound,” a dropship streaks underneath the gray canopy of the storm and drops a parachute containing the Auto Gun package off its back cargo deck. It lands near the beacon I’ve tossed onto the floor of the loading dock. I only have to crawl out onto the platform a little way to unlock and activate the package. Once I do, I watch as the sides of the crate flop down and the gun unpacks itself. Within seconds, its targeting lasers activate, cutting through the gun smoke and gloom as it begins spitting out short staccato bursts of hot lead at any WonderSofties within range. I get six more kills in the space of a minute.
“Thirty seconds!” calls out AwesomeSauce over the chat.
I’m down to nine players from both surviving squads, including the two snipers at the far end of the complex.
WonderSoft cracks their zone and advances to the second map just after our timer hits zero.
We get the King of the Hill bonus as the loading dock’s main door slides open, revealing a shadowy, wide, low-ceilinged hallway where overhead lights flicker on and off at random intervals.
“RangerSix, this is PerfectQuestion,” I say as I call in our status to Command.
“Six here; go ahead.”
“Command, we need reinforcements. I’m down to nine total, including myself.”
“I know, I’ve been watching the network feed, son. Heckuva a job. Bad break on Third Squad, though … but I was hoping you’d get the main door open, at low cost, and you did. I’m authorizing you one of our fan SF units. I think they’ll do the job considering where you’re at.”
Where I’m at?
“Where am I at, exactly?”
Long pause. Hairs rising on the back of my neck.
“You didn’t read that sign at the front gate, the one that said property of Weyland-Yutani Corporation?”
“Saw it. Didn’t mean anything.”
“And the big identifier on the face of the main building,” continues RangerSix. “LV-426. C’mon, Question, you’ve never seen the greatest sci-fi combat film ever made? Aliens.”
I pause. On-screen my avatar crouches on the platform as the eight other surviving players reload their weapons. My avatar is holding one hand to his headset, indicating I’m in communication with another element. Over ambient sound I hear the high-pitched whine of an Albatross’s engines powering into its braking hover. I turn. The Albatross rotates above the street. In front of the loading dock. it hovers above the mud.
“Everybody wants to play Space Marine, Question, but this is where it all started … Colonial Marines,” says RangerSix over the chat with a wheezy laugh.
Some fan units go beyond just training together like old gaming clans hoping to get picked up for a network battle. Some take the next step and modify their avatars to effect a cosplay element. I guess these were that sort. I’ve even heard of fan units who go on vacation together and try to live like their characters in real life. That’s a little much for me.
Colonial Marines.
Their armor and camo is similar to ours with only slightly different touches. It reminds me of images I’d looked at of soldiers from the Vietnam War. But spacier. They have helmet-mounted small lights attached. I can’t see how that will be any use in online combat. The trick is to not attract attention to yourself so you can shoot first. Headlights seem to be the opposite of that.
“Are these guys somehow … relevant to this map?” I ask RangerSix.
He laughs briefly. “Yeah, they’re real relevant, Perfect. Listen, this is how I see it. I just did a little checking. This is some sort of advertising stunt for the network. The map, that is. I just talked to a guy over at programming who told me they’re debuting a trailer for the Aliens reboot after the match tonight. Really, you never saw Aliens?”
“No, never. Is it good?”
He laughs again.
“You need to watch it, son. Listen up, this map will somehow relate to the movie. Whether it’s original source material or something from the reboot, I don’t know. But the bioweapon you’re looking for is most likely an alien. So watch out, there might be a whole lot of them inside the main building. If there are … well, your team’s in big trouble.”
“An alien?”
“Roger that, Perfect. An alien. If, and I’m just guessing here, we can get that tech unlock, if we can get the alien as a combat unit or something, that could be a game changer for us. So, if you can get it, get it. If you can’t, make sure WonderSoft doesn’t. The last thing we need right now is a bunch of those crazy things running around my battlefield, playing for the wrong team.”
“One question, Six? What does this alien look like?”
Again he laughs. I don’t think I’ve ever even heard him laugh once. Or express emotion. Anything. “I really can’t believe it, Question,” says RangerSix, still laughing. “Look like? It looks like a cross between a gorilla and a shark and a scorpion. You’ll know it when you see it, son. Six out.”
Two new squads of Colonial Marines come up the loading dock ramp.
“What’s the mission, sir?” asks a player tagged MarineSgtApone.
“We’ve cleared the first map. King of the Hill,” I tell him. “Now we enter the second map. No idea what match it might be, but we’re all about to find out. This is a superlab op, so the endgame is to retrieve the tech and get out. You guys down?”
“Straight up, Question,” says MarineSgtApone, a black burly commando-type avatar chewing a short stubby cigar.
“Listen up, Marines,” he says over BattleChat. “We got to go in and clear us some Softies out. So you know the drill; watch the corners and clear the shadows. We’ve done this on our own mods. WarWorld’s level design might be a little different, maybe even a lot different probably, and the AI on the aliens is most likely gonna be insane, can’t tell. But in the end they’re just big bad bugs, and we’re probably the best suited for this one ’cause we be the bug stompers. Who’d a thought?”
Everyone cheers. This must be like the Super Bowl for them.
“All right, let’s squad up and move in,” I announce over the chat. At the lead of First Squad, I head into the alien-infested remains of a place called Hadley’s Hope. LV-426.
