Connection: Chapter 9

They arrived at their destination safely, the bumper detaching only twice. Li was still reeling from the evening's events. She half expected to wake up in her bedroom, the alcohol having gone to her head. She felt an inexorable attraction to the man in her car. Slim, tall, at once gentle and aggressive. Her mind wandered to the bedroom for an entirely different reason.

Meanwhile, Robert had uploaded the snapshot to the laptop and done some minor image editing. He looked outside and saw the familiar double-curve symbol scrawled in white chalk, indicating an open network. He typed a keyword into the online search engine and scanned the results. After a couple unpromising sites, he confirmed his suspicions. Dear God, he thought. This is sick. Sick and twisted, but perfectly logical.

"Li, I can tell you who really lit the match tonight, although he was not even there," he said staring at the screen. "Li?"

"Hmm? Oh, sorry. Lost in my own thoughts. Who's behind what now?"

He smiled. "You must be exhausted. Do you still want to know?"

"Of course," she exclaimed. "This car didn't have a scratch on it until you got your hands on it." And me, she added silently.

Robert's countenance darkened. "When we left your building, remember we saw the SUV zoom out the parking lot?" Li nodded. "I thought I knew the logo on the side, but in the confusion and snow I couldn't be positive. Got a slightly better look when I pulled beside them, enough to want to stop them in any case. Turns out my hunch was correct." He turned the laptop to her. On one half of the screen was the picture, rotated ninety degrees anticlockwise. On the other was a black-and-white logo lifted from a website. The two were identical.

"This is the official insignia of one Johnathan Wendel. Known in computer gaming circles as Fatality." He paused. "The deadliest gamer in the world."

A prolonged burst of laughter filled the car. Li said, "You're not serious? A gamer? You mean, video games? Some loser who built his own Playstation set fire to the Faust Towers?" She erupted again. "Robert, tell me you're pulling my leg."

"I am very serious," he replied. "You may think playing video games is a trivial pursuit. Most people do. The reality is that a virtual reality can be a full-time profession. And at the highest level, a very lucrative one." Li sobered quickly.

"There is an immense worldwide gaming population. This has been true for the last two decades. Since personal computers took off, there have been games, and there have been gamers. With the advent of the online multiplayer game in the mid-nineties, this population became an interlinked community. Players were now playing against other players from around the globe. Distance ceased to be a limiting factor.

"Tech companies have always loved gamers, since we are the early adopters of their new technology. It didn't take long for the leaders in the industry to sponsor organized competitions. From there, it was a small step to offer monetary prizes. The activity of gaming could now support itself financially. "

Skeptical, Li listened as Robert warmed to his task. "At least for the top players. Similar to poker tournaments, most of the participants go home losers. Cyberathletes like myself spend hours each day, honing our craft. We have to be as disciplined as athletes in any sport. Practice makes perfect."

Li asked, "But how do you earn real money?"

"By winning major tournaments. Cyberathletes from seventy countries converge for the largest competitions, hoping to bag upwards of $100,000. And here's where it gets interesting. Mr Wendel had bits and bytes in his bloodstream. In fact, he was so addicted to the original 1992 Mortal Kombat fighting game, he took its concluding line as his alias, Fatality. At eighteen, he entered his first tourney and placed third. His performance was so impressive he represented the United States a fortnight later in Stockholm. He emerged undefeated.

"And undefeatable. Since then, he has decimated opponents on all five continents. Sweden, Australia, Korea, Germany, Brazil, Russia, you name it, he's beat there, done that. He has won the championship match of the Cyberathlete Professional League three years in a row. Here's the punchline to the gut: he makes $60,000 a year."

"That's twice what I make," Li sputtered.

"From zero to number one in no time at all. Almost total domination for a few years. Then he started losing about twelve months ago. Like any sport, there's always someone ready to take your place. Guess who was a rising star."

Li mused, "So he tried to remove a potential threat to his future income."

"Bingo. But of course he couldn't dirty his valuable hands. So he sent those two kids, and I'll bet the server farm they're in his clan."

"His clan?"

"Most games are an individual battle, but there are some, like Counter-Strike, that facilitate group warfare. So gamers form elite squads that compete as a unit. Fatality is a member of such a team: clan Kapitol. They're at the top of their game, literally."

Li jerked to attention. "Robert," she intoned, "this is much worse than you think."