‘Could it be . . . so, do you think it’s possible that your dad reprogrammed the game? That he added some neat new details? I mean, it’s not called Elysium any more. It’s called Erebos.’
‘What? Yes, possibly.’ The glow faded from Adrian’s face. ‘The thing is, someone tried to steal Elysium from him. Then there was a court case that dragged on forever . . . Dad was . . . well, different the last two years. He didn’t talk to me much any more, so I don’t know if he changed something. He worked like crazy, at any rate. In fact that’s all he did; he barricaded himself in his basement, hardly ate, didn’t even take the time to wash.’ He looked at Emily and Nick apologetically. ‘Mum says he wasn’t himself any more, even at the beginning of the trial. He couldn’t cope with the fact that they accused him of theft and fraud. And what’s more, we were the ones being burgled. Four times. At the office, at our home – even the cars were broken into.’
Adrian’s story was starting to add up to Nick, and the answer wasn’t pretty. It went like this: Soft Suspense had got wind of McVay’s new development and tried to get hold of the program. That hadn’t worked, or at least not to their satisfaction, so they’d taken McVay to court. And won. Was that possible?
‘Listen,’ he said. ‘I’m going to explain what the objective is in Erebos, is that okay?’ Even though he felt Emily’s gaze resting on him, he couldn’t stop now. ‘A monster must be killed, and the best, strongest and most ruthless warriors are sought for the task. They must prevail over anyone who wants to stop Erebos, and they must make preparations for the last battle. This last battle is going to take place very soon – and do you know the name of the monster who is to be destroyed in the battle?’
He saw from Adrian’s eyes that he suspected, at least.
‘Exactly,’ Nick said. ‘Its name is Ortolan.’
Adrian exhaled audibly. Gave one short laugh. Became serious again. ‘Really?’
‘I swear.’
Adrian’s face showed a number of emotions at once – satisfaction, grief and hatred.
‘You mean,’ he said in a raw voice, ‘that someone is going to kill Ortolan?’
‘Possibly. I believe something of the sort will happen.’
‘I considered doing that myself a couple of times. After Dad changed so much, and . . . definitely later.’ He smiled at the ground again. ‘After I distributed the DVDs and so many people suddenly changed – I got worried that Dad had made a mistake. A game that destroys the players, you know? At the end he was . . . oh, whatever. He’d completely changed. Just like all of you. That’s why I was so scared.’ He looked up now. ‘But he didn’t want to hurt you at all. Only Ortolan.’
When Emily spoke, it was very quietly and carefully. ‘That’s not how it’s working out, Adrian. The game has made the players do dreadful things. Someone sabotaged the brakes on Jamie’s bike.’
Adrian’s head jerked up. ‘What?’
‘Yes. It wasn’t an accident. A whole lot of bad things have happened just so your father’s revenge plan won’t be jeopardised. Yesterday someone tried to push Nick in front of a train.’
Adrian shook his head, his face pale and incredulous. ‘If one of the players kills Ortolan, he’ll destroy his own life as well,’ Emily went on. ‘You must see that. And your father must have seen it too.’
Adrian avoided her eyes. ‘Did the game talk to you? You asked questions and it answered? Or the other way round?’
‘Yes,’ Emily said.
‘That was what Ortolan was desperate for. The AI that Dad had developed. Artificial Intelligence,’ he explained in response to Nick’s questioning look. ‘He’d developed a program that could learn like a person. Languages too. Dad said that when it was fully developed and complete he’d get the Nobel Prize for it. He was incredibly proud of it, and he went to great lengths to keep his invention secret.’
There it was again, that vulnerable, sensitive quality that Nick had noticed so often about Adrian.
‘But one of the accountants in Dad’s company accepted a bribe. Ortolan always had his radar tuned to what other people were developing, and from the moment he found out Dad had taken a big step towards creating AI, there was no more peace.’
Nick was pretty sure that the above-mentioned accountant was now the proud owner of a graffiti-sprayed garage.
‘At first Ortolan wanted to buy the idea from Dad, but he said no. He had his own company, and he wanted to release his program himself. That’s when the terror tactics started.’
Emily stood up from her chair, and sat down next to Adrian. ‘That’s all horrible. So unfair it makes me want to scream. But it doesn’t mean someone should be turned into a murderer because of it, does it?’
‘No,’ Adrian whispered. ‘You’re right.’
‘That’s why we’re going to try to stop it.’
‘Okay. Do you need my help?’ That sounded pleading, and Nick could understand how Adrian felt. He didn’t want to be reduced to being a spectator again.
‘Of course,’ he said. ‘After all, you’re almost the key to this mystery.’
While he was waiting for his train, Nick called Victor, who answered after the first ring.
‘Finally! What does young McVay say?’
‘That Ortolan is a bastard.’
‘Really? Well, there are a few of them in the industry.’
‘Apparently. He also said that his father had developed some kind of artificial intelligence and incorporated it into his game. Something completely new, that Ortolan wanted to get hold of at any price.’
‘Oh. That doesn’t surprise me. My goodness, that would have made him a gruesomely wealthy man.’
Artificial intelligence. When he got home, Nick connected Finn’s laptop and tried to find out more about it. It seemed that legions of specialists were all busily trying to find a way to teach computers human thinking in all its complexity. Adrian’s father had managed it. His software learned, it could read, and it could make use of what it had read. It analysed the computer user and gave him what he wanted, deep down inside. Amazing. No wonder none of them had been able to drag themselves away from Erebos. The game was now a weapon that had developed a life of its own.
Nick read on, found out about the Turing test, the Loebner Prize, neural and symbolic AI. After two hours his head was aching and he gave up. He wasn’t able to understand even the basics of what Larry McVay had achieved.
CHAPTER 32
Victor’s text came in the middle of the night. The alert tone jolted Nick out of a deep sleep. The screen on his phone was a stark white patch in the pitch-dark room.
He leapt out of bed so quickly that he felt dizzy and had to prop himself up with his hands on the desk.
1 new message.
He pressed Read.
Looks as if Ortolan’s in 4 it. They’re getting the Inner Circle ready 4 the battle. Torches, oaths, white robes, the whole thing. I think 2day’s the day. We r besieging the fortress in the meantime PS Found a wish crystal (yellow). If it’s all going to b over soon, guess I may as well stick it on my hat.
It was 3.50 a.m. Victor had sent the message at 3.48. Nick crawled back into bed clutching his phone and rang him. ‘What does that mean, you’re besieging the fortress?’
‘Hi! Oh, well, we’re sort of lounging around in front of it. It’s a hulking big white thing that glows in the night, with blood running down it. Yuck.’
Nick couldn’t answer because he had to yawn so hard.
‘I woke you up, hmm? Sorry, but I wanted to keep you up to date. Just in case you . . . oops, now they’re shooting heads again!’
Nick heard frantic clicking.
‘All sorted. As I was saying, you might have wanted to do something right away.’
‘I don’t know – what sort of thing? Has anyone said what the Inner Circle is supposed to do? Got any clues for us?’
‘They’re supposed to overthrow Ortolan. When they’ve succeeded, his tower will collapse, and we’re all going to be awesomely re
warded, according to the messenger. There are heaps of people here sitting around, waiting for the thing to topple, even though the Inner Circle has only just left.’
‘What I’d like to do is go to Blackfriars straightaway.’
‘The Tube’s not running yet and you can forget the night buses. Besides – what are you going to do there? You’d be better off going back to bed, Nick.’
That had to be a joke. But Victor was right, they at least needed the suggestion of a plan. ‘I’ll take the first train and come to your place and then we can consider what to do.’
‘All right. I’m already feeling queasy. It’s getting serious.’
‘If something important happens, let me know.’
‘Of course. I’ll do the night watch, all lonesome and forlorn. Apart from the other three hundred weary souls here, that is.’
Nick sat on his bed and stared hypnotically at the hands on his watch. There was still over an hour to go before the first Tube train ran. What happened if the tower collapsed in the meantime?
He couldn’t bear sitting down, and began to pace up and down, which made a ridiculously loud noise in the night-time quiet of the flat. He mustn’t wake anyone. He was better off going into the kitchen and writing a note saying he’d gone for a run with Colin before school. That was the best he could think of. With any luck his parents would believe it when they got up in two and a half hours.
When he crept out of the flat it was a quarter to five. He took his schoolbag with him so it wouldn’t happen to catch Mum’s eye, but he dumped it downstairs near the bikes straightaway. He could do without unnecessary baggage.
The streets were dark and empty, and the gates outside the station were still locked. Nick wrapped his jacket tighter around himself and counted the minutes. What would he do? He could intercept Ortolan and force him to listen. Or he could go to the police: You see, Constable, it’s like this. There’s this computer game which clearly tells us that a nasty executive is going to be murdered today. Oh yes. Terrific idea.
In the middle of these thoughts his phone announced a new message.
Completely certain now. It will happen 2day. Got the appropriate orders. Contact me!
He rang Victor immediately.
‘If someone asks me, I’m supposed to say I was having breakfast with a certain Colin Harris. Today, between eight and ten.’
Nick didn’t get it straightaway. ‘Why should you have breakfast with Colin?’
‘Because I’m supposed to be giving him an alibi. Provided, of course, that they don’t catch him in the act. Do you know this Colin Harris?’
‘I certainly do.’
‘Okay, whatever. Listen Nick, all this is making me pretty bloody nervous.’
‘I’m already on my way to your place. What does the tower look like? Is it still standing?’
‘Yep. Still standing, still shining and bleeding.’
When the gate to the station finally opened, Nick ran down the steps as if the messenger himself was chasing him.
No detour this time, straight to King’s Cross. In less than twenty minutes he was ringing Victor’s doorbell.
‘Here, you have a look,’ Victor said.
There was the tower, gigantic and pallid white in the darkness. Blood was dripping out of the windows, the embrasures, the cracks in the walls. In the darkness around it hundreds of warriors of all races and levels were gathered around. They were waiting. Nick could imagine how curious they were. How curious he would have been himself, if he hadn’t known what was behind it. As it was the sight made him feel slightly sick.
‘I’ll go to Ortolan and warn him personally. Even if he is an arsehole. If he doesn’t take me seriously, at least I’ve tried,’ he said. ‘Or,’ Victor put in, ‘we go to the office building and lie in wait. As soon as one of the players turns up, we stop him. And notify the police.’
That sounded good. That would work. ‘Okay,’ Nick said. ‘Who’s in the Inner Circle at the moment?’
Victor counted them off on his fingers. ‘Wyrdana, BloodWork, Telkorick, Drizzel and . . . hang on . . . Ubangato, a barbarian. Got in at the last tournament. Do you have any idea who they might be in real life?’
‘No,’ said Nick. ‘But more and more I’m thinking that Colin might be BloodWork.’
They set out shortly after six o’clock. Nick sent Adrian a text. Reluctantly, but he had promised him, after all, that he’d keep him in the loop. Victor typed a text to Emily, whereupon Nick tried to rip the phone out of his hands.
‘Are you crazy? What happens if it’s dangerous?’
‘I promised her. She’ll throttle me if I don’t notify her now.’ He pressed Send. ‘Besides, she has just as much right to be there as you and I. And Adrian.’
Blackfriars. They got out of the Underground and set off on their way to Bridewell Place. Emily and Adrian were going to join them there.
It was drizzling, and Nick marched along silently beside Victor, constantly on the lookout for familiar faces. At the same time his thoughts were going in circles. What happened if no-one turned up? If it was a false alarm? If the tower wasn’t the building in Bridewell Place at all, but some other one?
They walked up New Bridge Street. At least he’d been smart enough to put on a jacket with a hood so he could hide his ponytail, if not his height. He certainly didn’t want to be discovered ahead of time by the gamers.
They wouldn’t be able to wait in Bridewell Place either. There was a pub further back, but it didn’t open till eleven.
‘Listen,’ said Victor when they came in sight of the office building. ‘You stay here for the moment and wait. Unobtrusively, of course. I’ll take a walk and have a look around, since no-one knows me.’
Victor set off, and Nick didn’t take his eyes off the building. The scaffolding obscured his view of the windows – that was a pain. Nick took a closer look. Was something moving up there? Someone? No, he’d imagined it. And if there actually was someone up there, it would just be a construction worker.
A glance at his watch. Shortly after seven-thirty. Damn, it could still be forever. He looked up at the scaffolding again – the next minute he nearly jumped out of his skin when a hand landed on his shoulder.
‘I said unobtrusive, Mr Dunmore. You’re about as discreet as a lighthouse.’ Victor stood behind him grinning from ear to ear.
‘Did you have to give me such a fright?’
‘Oh come on, don’t begrudge a lonely freak a little happiness in his life. Let’s go, we need to get closer.’
They both watched the entrance for some time without anyone familiar showing up. Then Nick’s phone rang, giving him such a shock that he nearly leapt in front of a car.
‘Hi, it’s me, Emily. Adrian and I are nearby; we’re buying sandwiches. Do you want any?’
‘Sandwiches? Now? No thanks.’
‘I always eat when I’m nervous,’ she said. ‘Where are you?’
‘Right outside the Soft Suspense building. Victor’s here too. But there’s nothing doing yet.’
‘Perhaps you’re too obvious, waiting there. See you soon!’
Nick dragged Victor behind a parked delivery van – Emily was right of course. They couldn’t mess this up.
Emily and Adrian joined them ten minutes later, but still nothing had happened. People were entering the office building, but there weren’t any school students among them.
‘It’s definitely today,’ Victor insisted. ‘The Inner Circle has been dispatched, and Nick and I both saw how the tower was bleeding.’
Ten more minutes passed. Nothing. Nick’s back was beginning to hurt because he had to crouch down behind the delivery van so as not to be seen. Had the Inner Circle suddenly chickened out? Now it was crunch time?
‘Here comes Ortolan,’ Adrian said. He said it quite calmly, but Nick saw his jaw muscle tense and his hands curl into fists.
The warriors of the Inner Circle had to appear now. Surely it was now or never. But no-one appeared. No-one was waitin
g around in the one spot for ages. With every minute that passed Nick became more convinced that something wasn’t right. Had their approach been too simplistic? Was the location wrong after all? Was someone planting a car bomb on Ortolan’s Jag right at this moment?
The thought was taking shape in his mind when he heard the sound of something breaking. It came from the office building, high up. A windowpane?
Nick stared upwards, but he couldn’t see anything because of the damned scaffolding . . . There was another breaking sound, no, a banging sound . . .
‘We are such idiots,’ he muttered. ‘They’re in already.’
Clang! Not very loud, just enough to be heard above the traffic noise.
They looked at each other, and started running as if someone had issued a command.
They ran across the street, across the forecourt, reached the foyer. ‘Slow down,’ said Victor. ‘Otherwise they won’t let us past. And take the stairs, not the lift.’
There was grey marble, columns, lots of glass and a reception desk with a woman who smiled at them. And there was Rashid, in a concealed corner of the foyer, almost invisible as he lurked on a black leather chair.
‘Soft Suspense?’ Victor asked, and whipped out his press pass.
‘Fifth floor. One moment, I’ll let them know you’re here.’
Rashid looked uncertainly at Nick; he obviously hadn’t been expecting anyone to turn up and cause problems. Then he seemed to come to a decision, jumped up and ran towards them.
‘Kind of you, but you needn’t bother.’ Victor said.
The stairs were in sight. They raced towards them, Nick didn’t hear what the receptionist called after them; the real question was whether Rashid had a gun.
First floor. Nothing unusual so far: no panicky people, no noise. But these were only the offices of the real estate company.
Second floor. Where was Rashid? Nick checked over his shoulder – there was nothing behind him except a deserted stairwell. But that still didn’t reassure him.
They passed the third and fourth floors – business as usual every where, and for a moment Nick hoped against all reason that they might be mistaken, that nothing was going to happen today. He clung to this hope as he ran up the stairs to the fifth floor.