Page 7 of The Deception: Hercules Valentine and I
Twelve Hours Later
My team is swamped. Everyone can barely keep their eyes open. I should be sleepier than all of them, but I’m not. I’m on a coding high. I’ll crash later tonight, at bedtime.
Mason hasn’t returned since he left the office earlier in the day. But I did as he asked—I packaged their compression technology and sent it to Julie—and I’ve just skimmed through an email from her, saying that the legal department is beginning the copyright process.
Good job,I reply.
However, it’s nighttime. The snow is piling up on the city streets and sidewalks. Since it’s cold as hell outside and we’ve been running hot, hot, hot creating the video game that will slay all other games in our pod, we worked through lunch. Other than multiple coffee runs, a box of Angel Anne’s Homemade Cookies, and a large container of red and black licorice, we haven’t consumed any substantial food. But the moment of truth has finally arrived.
The team stands in front of the eighty-two-inch monitors. The room is dusky, and the light of the screen draws us into it like a hypnotist’s swinging pendulum. Rina and Lake are up first. Harv fashions them both with an earpiece to digitally track their movements six feet below the reception chip at the bottom of the earpiece, three feet above the chip at the top of the earpiece, and within a four-foot circumference of where they stand.
Once fully outfitted, their personal players pop up on the screen. Their images trigger an outburst of applause. The real-life versions of Rina and Lake mirror their movements as both women stretch and dance around.
“Get ready,” I say, laughing with everyone else. Suddenly, it’s silent enough to hear a pin drop. I choose the video game’s world, which is an average high-end department store. “In the future, we’ll give real retail outlets the ability to create their own stores.”
The game’s home page pops up. There are three choices—Shop Big, Shop Smarter, Race to Shop.
“Let’s race,” Jonah says with his arms crossed, studying the screen intently.
I select that game. A screen that saysInsert Video and Audio Herepops up along with our inserted notes about adding an instructions option and sample play.
“Are you ladies ready?” I ask.
“Ready,” Lake and Rina say at the same time.
I select Start. Music plays, and Jonah’s voice impersonation of a game-show host says, “Follow the clues, and I’ll meet the winner at the finish line.”
Rob pats Jonah on the back. “You missed your calling, bro.”
We laugh.
“Note that players should be able to choose their host,” Lake says bouncing on her feet, readying herself for the activity that’s to come.
“Noted.” I write her suggestion in the log.
“Choose your category,” the host says.
I select Pop Culture.
“That’s a good one,” Rina says, focusing on the screen.
“Get on your mark,” the host says.
Lake and Rina each position a foot on a pulsingX.
“We should let players choose their marks,” Lake adds.
“Good idea,” Harv says.
I log it.
“Get set… go!” the host exclaims.
The game begins, and so do Lake and Rina. We are all amazed by how real their world looks on the screen. They swing their arms to run to each clue and then select from multiple-choice options. We’re all rooting for them. Natalia uploaded all the questions, so she’s the only one who outright knows the answers. The rest of us guess along with Rina and Lake, shouting our answers, groaning when we miss, celebrating when we get them right.
“Why are you all still here?”
Beaming, I turn to Mason, ready to explain. My glee drops into a look of bewilderment when I see Hercules beside him, staring at the screen with a serious scowl.
