Chapter Forty-Eight: The View from Outside
The Gamer was laughing that obnoxious laugh; it sounded tinny through the speaker over Leo's head. "Well done, Opponent! You finally figured it out! I was starting to think you never would!" The fact that Don couldn't hear him didn't seem to faze the man.
The proud big brother smile faded from Leo's face, replaced by a grim line. Don understood what I was trying to say, and now he knows what's happening. But now the Gamer knows his jig is up, and who knows how much power he has over the game as Don plays it?
Leo glanced up from the computer screen in front of him as his city guard character followed Don's wizard character out of the caves. Beyond this computer, thick glass walls divided the room into sections. In the center, trapped in a glass booth, Don stood, a bulky black helmet encasing his head. Clunky black gauntlets encased his hands, apparently concealing hand controls inside. He could not hear or see the outside world, despite Raph's and Mikey's loudest attempts when they had discovered him.
Black cords in a bundle connected the helmet to the ceiling, leaving plenty of slack for free movement of the player while keeping the excess out of the way as he instinctively moved around on some sort of special floor. In order to jog or sprint in the game, he had to jog or sprint on the specialized treadmill below him. Above him, a row of screens had been arranged to showcase the player's vital statistics—heartrate, blood pressure, breathing, and so on—so that everyone in the room could take note. Raph had been grinding his teeth in furious worry when Don's character's health—and his actual, physical health—had dipped dangerously low in the prologue of the game.
The total effect made Don look like the subject of a deranged science fiction experiment. Which, I guess, he kind of is. Somehow I don't think the Gamer is entirely sane, and he has access to some pretty advanced technology.
But most upsetting was the medical tube leading to the back of Don's neck, where tape firmly held a needle between his vertebrae. Just like the needle that turned me into a ninja zombie, and the one that zapped Mikey for any perceived disobedience. Only this one will kill him if his character dies in the game. This stupid "game."
Beyond the gaming cubicle, up half a level over the rest of the lab, the Gamer sat safely behind another thick glass wall. The massive array of screens and computers before him could only be the master computer controlling the game. Dim lighting obscured the area behind the Gamer, but from what Leo could tell, an impressive bank of computers and technology dominated the far wall. Both of the doors to his observation room—one led directly to the hall, and the other to Leo's right, inside the main room—were locked securely. The Gamer grinned every time Raph, pacing in front of the interior door, growled a threat in his direction, and chortled every time Mikey, who stood twitching behind Leo watching his screen or the big screen showing Don's point of view, shrieked in alarm when Don's health bar dropped dangerously low. Mikey clutched Don's bo in his hands as if for comfort.
Hardly more than twenty minutes after the four turtles had split into pairs and Leo and Mikey had failed to find anything particularly interesting, Raph had burst into the room they'd been searching. Alone.
"Don's gone!" Raph had said, caution quieting his usual bellow. "I can't find him anywhere! He was just across the hall from me, lookin' at a computer I found, and then he was gone! At first I thought he found somethin' else techy or th' darts or whatever, but he wouldn'ta disappeared on me fer too long… An' now he's nowhere."
"Oh, no!" Mikey had covered his mouth with his hands.
Leo had immediately put two and two together. "Shell! The Gamer's played us again. He wanted us to come here. And this time, he hasn't captured us for Don to rescue. He's captured Don for us to rescue. We've got to find him fast."
Sped by righteous rage, the three of them had barreled through halls and rooms, taking down Foot and technicians in their way, until they'd found this well-lit room full of computers, glass walls, and one trapped but entranced turtle innocently playing a fantasy game.
The Gamer had greeted them cheerily from his seat of safety, even as five Foot rose from a row of computers on the main level to face them. One of them had the audacity to pick up Don's bo from where it leaned against the long table; Don's duffel lay on the floor below. The Foot didn't stand a chance against three angry brothers.
Then the turtles had turned to attempting to free Don, and when this proved impossible, to interrogate and threaten the Gamer into releasing him.
"Oh, he'll be freed when he beats the game," the Gamer had said, "and not before. I can't even release him. It's like a bank vault. But way more interesting, especially since if he dies in the game, he dies in real life. So just sit back and watch the show." He'd gestured to the screens showing Don's point of view. "You can cheer him on if you want, but he can't hear you."
Forcing aside his emotions, Leo had made a decision then. Mikey and Raph had dragged the unconscious forms of the Foot out of the way into a storage room behind Leo as he sat down at the first computer. Returning from binding them with spare computer cables, Raph had paused to mutter in Leo's ear something about the storage room holding enough supplies for "a whole buncha full-blown parties. Buncha stray balloons, too." These words had sounded familiar to Leo, but he was already too focused on the task at hand to figure out why.
Don would have figured out how to take control of a non-player character, or NPC, almost immediately, but it took Leo a few minutes. Then Leo started following Don's character, even though Don seemed annoyed at first, and did his dead-level best to protect his character with his own. Leo's NPC was expendable. Don's was not.
At least I've played a little of some of Don's games before, Leo thought, as the two characters neared the next city. Raph hasn't, and Mikey doesn't have the patience for anything more complicated than an arcade game. And Don used to make me watch, when he was proud of something. I'd never wished I'd played more, but I do now. I'm not nearly as good at gaming as Don is, especially with the limitations of a character never intended to be a main character.
The Gamer had casually mentioned that he'd intended for all five computers to be played by his men as NPCs against his 'worthy opponent.' "After all," he'd said, "my Opponent is awfully clever. He needs a challenge for this to be enjoyable."
Now, several hours had passed. Leo's body had grown a little stiff after sitting tensely for so long, and he wanted water, and maybe some food, too. But he would defend his younger brother with his life as many times as necessary until he beat the game. Of course, the Gamer requires that Don beat the game entirely. While not dying at all throughout the entire playthrough. Leo's knuckles clenched over the mouse again. You're going to have to run very fast once Don's done and released from the death needle, Gamer. With his help, we can get that door open to you in no time.
Their characters made it into the next city, and Leo paused to breathe and let his muscles relax slightly. He'd never seen any danger in a settlement.
Don made his rounds, did his chores, and converted loot and coin into gear and many, many health potions. I wish I could carry some for him. Then he led the way to a quiet corner of the city.
"Okay," he said. His voice sounded normal, but as his brother, Leo could detect nervousness, and not just from the elevated heartrate visible on the monitors. "Let's figure this out while we're still in town, away from any goons. You can hear my physical voice, which means we're either in the same room or I have a microphone attached to me, but I can't hear yours, which means either we're not in the same room, or I have noise-cancelling headphones on or something."
Leo nodded. He knows this already; he just has to think it over.
"I can't leave the game; I tried. It's so immersive, it feels like I'm in this world. And you can't get me out of the game, either; you must've tried when you found me. Or you can't reach me. Or both." He licked his lips. "So you have a distinct advantage in communication in that you can hear me, and I can say whatever I want." He gestured with his trapped hands. "But you have a distinct disadvantage in communication in that you can only say set things… So let's try to establish more meaning to those set things."
Oh, that's where he was going with this. Of course; that makes sense. Leave it to Don to figure out a workaround to handicaps.
Leo clicked a line option. "Yes, indeed, my lord."
Don paused again. "Now that I know it's you, it's really weird to hear you say 'my lord' and 'my liege…'" He shook himself. "But that's beside the point. Can you splice lines together? You can, right?"
Leo frowned. Sort of. I just figured out how, so it's slow and awkward. He nodded, but slowly.
"A little tricky, huh? Okay, how about you run through all your available lines. Are there any you haven't used yet?"
Well, that's easy enough. Leo clicked one option after the next: 'Greeting,' 'Yes,' 'No,' 'Ambient statements,' 'Warnings,' 'Alert,' 'Alert cancelled,' 'War cry,' and 'Farewell:'
"Greetings. Yes, indeed, my lord. No, my liege. A red dawn rises. A fair wind is blowing. Ah, traveler, the city guards are like brothers. Harm one of us, and you harm all of us. Look to the skies! Halt, vagabond! You will pay for your crimes! What's that noise? Hm. Nothing. Must've been rats or something. Face my wrath, you foul beast! Farewell, traveler."
Don's wizard character stared at his city guard character for a long moment, twitching left and right as he nudged his controls. "And that'll change if you end up with a different NPC, of course," he murmured.
Sort of. Same categories of lines, but different words.
"Okay. Obviously 'yes' and 'no.' 'Halt' means stop; you see danger that I don't, or you want to attack first. 'What's that noise' means you think there might be danger, but you aren't sure where. 'Look to the skies' means the danger is upward. Say my name if there's something I've missed."
Leo nodded to himself. Got it.
Don paced forward and backward. "And then for non-verbal, crouching can mean 'I don't know,' and spinning in a circle can mean 'It's too complicated to explain.'"
Hmm. That's quite a few. "Mikey," Leo said.
Mikey immediately shot over to him and hovered, almost literally, at his elbow. "Yeah?"
"See if you can't find some paper and a pen. Write down these code words for me. I have to focus on Don."
"You got it, Leo!" Setting down Don's bo, Mikey entered warp speed to search a room full of computers and mysterious technology for old-fashioned paper and pen.
"Aww, you can't remember a handful of code words, Leader?" The Gamer tutted over the overhead speaker. "I didn't think you were a dumb turtle. But I guess your brain is too full of flashy sword moves for any new information, huh?"
Hand clenched over the mouse, Leo refused to look up from his screen—Don was sorting his inventory again—at the smirking enemy. "Would you like to open that door so I can show you a few of those 'flashy sword moves,' Gamer?"
Raph glared through the glass door in question, muscular arms crossed. The Gamer can't move from his seat without Raph knowing about it.
The Gamer laughed. "No, no, I'm good in here. I prefer to admire your work from afar, like an action movie. Or a video game, of course. You've gotten better, by the way, at controlling your NPC. You were flailing like a clumsy toddler at first."
Mikey reappeared with a stack of blank copy paper, a broken pencil, and a blue dry-erase marker. "This is what I found," he announced breathlessly. "So, what did he say? Yes, no, halt—halt means what?"
Oops. Don's talking.
"…cover the basics," Don was saying. He inched backward. "So, I guess I'll try to remember to phrase things as yes-or-no questions. Are you ready?"
Shell. Leo's stomach felt tight. If someone was measuring my blood pressure… He grunted. This is so frustrating, not being able to talk to my own brother while trying to help him. With effort, he snapped his eyes to the lines available to him, then chose, "No, my liege."
"You're… not ready?" Surprise and confusion tinted Don's voice. "What do you need? Ah, right, yes-or-no questions. Let's see… Oh! Do you need me to repeat the words?"
As he nodded, Leo tried not to allow relief to show on his face, both for his brothers' sake and his enemy's sake.
"No problem. I did say them pretty fast." Don ran through them again, this time slower, while Mikey scribbled shorthand notes.
All right. This makes me feel a little more confident. Don knows what's up, and we have a way to communicate the basics with each other.
Don waited half a moment more—Mikey leaned the cheat sheet against an unused portion of Leo's desk area—and then asked again. "You ready, Leo?"
"Yes, indeed, my lord."
The two of them set off again.
The Gamer leaned forward in his chair. "Good luck, Opponent." His eyes glinted with anticipation. "You're going to need it."
Leo no longer had any sense of what time it was. Weeks more had passed in-game, but did that mean one hour of real time had passed, or three? It must be well past midnight, though. We have to get out of here before morning.
He had mostly tuned out his physical surroundings: Raph still stood guard, Mikey, twirling Don's bo anxiously, still watched somewhere behind him, and the Gamer occasionally mocked or laughed, but Leo ignored all this. Raph or Mikey would get his attention if absolutely necessary, but for now Don commanded his entire focus. Specifically, Don's wizard.
Thankfully, Don had completely changed his style of play since he found out what was at stake. Caution now slowed his progress, but he also now skipped side quests and any non-critical tasks. His various pieces of armor became mismatched as he prioritized stats like defense or attack speed over a cool look.
Don also allowed Leo's character to take the brunt of combat without argument or complaint. He did sigh a little, though, when Leo's character died far from a settlement and he had to retrace his steps so that Leo could take control of a new NPC and rejoin him. Can't blame him for that. He was having fun before this, and he can play much better than me. I would be annoyed to be in his place and be held back by someone much less experienced, too.
The Gamer, however, was clearly having the time of his life. He watched Don's progress like it was a movie. Sometimes he leaned back in his chair, hands interlocked behind his head, with a grin on his face. Sometimes he slurped soda and nibbled on candy. Sometimes he cheered Don on, or booed him for being "boring." But sometimes, when Don approached a fight, he leaned forward and took his mouse.
When that happened, Leo tried to figure out which grayclaw, bandit, or other enemy the Gamer was personally controlling. He would do his best to engage him, or at least keep himself between the Gamer and Don.
Eventually, the Gamer switched a sneakier tactic: he would jump between NPCs, making it difficult to tell which identical enemy had the intelligence of an insane but experienced human among all the other AI-controlled ones.
But Leo and Don developed their awkward system of communication and became as an efficient, unified team as was possible under the circumstances. This could even be fun, if Don's life wasn't on the line. Maybe sometime I'll let even Don talk to me into playing one of these games with him… assuming I can disassociate it with this, of course.
The game's villain, the High Ghamyronis, continued to evade them, even when they managed to get to him. He would slip away like an eel. Probably because he can see Don's character coming… and he made the game. Leo rolled his eyes. It's the very definition of 'unfair.'
Still, Leo had every confidence in his genius brother, who had spent countless hours conquering video game worlds like this, to defeat the Gamer at his own game.
