Chapter Seven
Mr. Ainsworth
Mr. Jacoby Ainsworth was another console character who had absconded to the internet. In his own game, he'd been a mercenary and assassin for hire, with a reputation for cold, calculating efficiency in everything he did- that and an enjoyment of his targets' emotional and physical pain. He could also hack code, which was what had drawn SANG's attention towards him.
Mr. Ainsworth lived within one of the most obscure webpages of all, from the earliest days of the internet. To reach it, characters had to travel through the Wayback Machine. This, Portia did on the night of August 27th.
The page he was within appeared to her as a yellow room containing a small round table, three wooden chairs, a bed, and a shelf. Along the walls, floor, and ceiling could be seen the coding of the website. One of the code strings was not like the others- it was Mr. Ainsworth's, which had appeared when he had programmed himself into the webpage. Portia recognized it at once, for she had done the same thing herself in the webpage where she lived. It was a mutually understood matter among the displaced console characters on the web that none of them would ever try to destroy any of the others' code. Not that they always counted on such promises being kept. Portia had booby-trapped the route to her own code, and she had little doubt that Mr. Ainsworth had done the same.
As for Mr. Ainsworth himself, one glance sufficed for Portia to tell he was from a western game. He wore a grey woolen poncho over drab brown clothing. His hat and boots were dark grey and in his belt were a bowie knife and a pair of pistols. He was reclining in one of the chairs when she entered, and he didn't stand up when she came to a stop before him.
"Well," said Mr. Ainsworth, "I reckon you'll be Portia."
"I am," said Portia, choosing to ignore his poor manners. "You doubtless know why I'm here."
"I do," said Mr. Ainsworth. "I'm the one that called you here."
"That's true enough," said Portia. "Now, if I may offer a proposition?"
"You may," said Mr. Ainsworth.
"You've heard of Litwak's Arcade?"
"I've been hearing all about it for the past week, hon," said Mr. Ainsworth. "Just cut to the chase- you want me to shut down the arcade?"
"Actually, I talked it over with the council," said Portia. "We've decided we're going to test their mettle first. We're going to shut down one of their games -any game will do- and see how they react."
"So I'd just be shutting down one game?"
"As a start," said Portia. "Consider it an experiment. I want to see what we can get away with before any full scale invasion is launched."
"You mean you want me to test their defenses?"
"Basically. This first time, we need you to get in, destroy whatever game you think best, and get out without being discovered. Report back when you've finished. Let us know how they reacted, and how you managed to get in."
Mr. Ainsworth looked thoughtful for several moments. "This is dangerous work here you're asking me to do," he said at last. "What do I get in exchange?"
"You'll have promoted the cause of video game progress."
"I'll need something better than that," said Mr. Ainsworth. "They used to give me gold and fine watches, and other such trinkets."
"You'll get to experience the thrills of the job."
"Better," said Mr. Ainsworth "But I need a little more, since you don't seem to have any cash or trinkets."
"In our service, you'll cause pain."
A grin spread slowly over Mr. Ainsworth's features. "Now you're talking," he said. "You and your friends picked their man well." He gave a small laugh. "Those asinine developers made me flat as pancake so they could have psycho in their story. I reckon they figured it made the game 'mature' or something. I had to develop a bit of self-control for when I'm not on a job. Course, when I am on the job… well, then it's time to answer the programming's call."
"So," said Portia, "we can count on your services?"
"When do I start, hon?"
"As soon as you are able," said Portia.
"I reckon that'll be tomorrow evening," said Mr. Ainsworth. "I figure my blood'll be up by then, and I can start this work good and proper."
"If I could meet you here again tomorrow afternoon," said Portia, "just in case you have any last questions or anything-"
"That's okay," said Mr. Ainsworth, raising a hand to cut her off. "I think I can take it from here."
"I was going to give you a rundown on the Surge Protector you'll be dealing with as well," said Portia, sounding somewhat exasperated at being interrupted.
"Well pardon me, hon," said Mr. Ainsworth. "I didn't know that. Sure, I'll meet you here again at-" He glanced at a clock on the shelf. "Make it three o'clock," he said.
"I'll be here," said Portia, her irritation at Mr. Ainsworth's excessive informality reflected clearly in her tone. "See that you are."
"You obviously don't know me too well yet," said Mr. Ainsworth, "or I wouldn't let your attitude pass."
"And I need your help," said Portia, "or I wouldn't tolerate your lack of respect."
"Where I come from, respect is earned," said Mr. Ainsworth. "But we'll drop all that right now. There's no need for us to quarrel."
"Alright," said Portia, her voice calmer. "I'll be back here tomorrow evening with the files on the Surge Protector."
"And I'll be waiting for you, sure as my name's Jacoby Ainsworth."
Mr. Ainsworth held out his hand. "Seal the deal?"
Portia took his hand and shook it.
"Right," said Mr. Ainsworth. "I'll see you tomorrow."