Cheatc0de Read online

  Will shakes his head. “That’s a real sweet offer, kid. But you were right—those credits aren’t just lying around. They’ll be protected. My intel says there are multiple levels of security to get through, each one different. It’ll need my knowledge of AIPR0N to get through any one of them. So I need your HUD, and I need you to sell it to me now.”

  “You’re missing the point,” Kilgore says. “It will be much faster if I go through the minefield, and I already have AIPR0N. You just tell me how to get through the security, and I’ll bring the stuff back.”

  “You have no idea what you’re talking about, kid.”

  “So tell me. What’ve they got over there—giant dogs with big googly eyes?” He lets out a derisive laugh.

  Will bares his teeth in a dismissive scowl. “I don’t know, you freaking idiot. It changes all the time. It could be anything. That’s why it has to be me that goes through. I know AIPR0N better than you. I can get past the defenses, whatever they are.”

  Kilgore studies Will’s face for a moment. “There’s something else,” he says. “Something you’re not telling me.”

  Will frowns.

  “Come on,” Kilgore goes on. “You don’t need credits and upgrades. You’re already loaded. What’s this really about?”

  Will looks down at the ground for a second. And when he looks up again, his expression softens. “You’re right,” he says. “Maybe you’re smarter than I gave you credit for.”

  “So what is it? Are you going to tell me the real reason you’re here or what?”

  Will sighs. “It’s a key. An encryption key. It’s worth a lot to me.” He hesitates and looks Kilgore in the eye.

  A muscle in Kilgore’s cheek twitches, but he doesn’t put his hand up to stop it.

  “I’ll tell you something, kid,” Will says. “With this key, I can get into any bank account in the world.”

  Kilgore snorts. “Bullshit! That sort of crap died out years ago.”

  “Did it? Did it really?” Will leans in closer to Kilgore and lowers his voice. “Or is that just what they want you to think?”

  Kilgore steps back, his lips twisted in a sneer of contempt. “You’re worse than my dad. You conspiracy nuts, you’re all the same.”

  In one swift movement, Will raises his rifle, pointing it squarely at Kilgore’s chest.

  “Christ!” Kilgore hisses. “You maniac!” He reaches out to push the barrel aside, but before he can make contact, Will flips his weapon and turns it around, pushing the stock toward Kilgore’s face. “You see that?”

  Kilgore scowls, but he can’t help but stare at the maker’s mark engraved on the stock. The three distinctive, intertwined hexagons of the Elite Assault Corporation are often talked about in gaming circles, but rarely seen. In the fast-moving world of the game, that symbol stands for something: wealth, dominance, superiority.

  Suddenly, there’s a hard knot of envy in Kilgore’s throat. He swallows it down, says nothing.

  Will lets out a condescending chuckle. “How do you think I got this gun? Do you think I just conjured it up out of thin air?”

  Kilgore clamps his lips. He won’t give him the satisfaction of an answer.

  “You don’t fool me, kid. You want to know how I got this gun, and you want to know how you can get one for yourself. You want it more than anything else in the world.”

  “Sure,” Kilgore says with a shrug. “Who wouldn’t? But that doesn’t mean a thing. OK, so you’re loaded. So what?”

  “You don’t get it, do you? And I thought you were the one who’s good at problem solving.”

  Kilgore rolls his eyes. “You having a high-class rifle doesn’t prove there’s this magical key we should all chase after. What next—gold at the end of the rainbow?”

  “Think about it, kid. I know this key exists because I’ve had access to it before.”

  Kilgore’s mouth forms a silent O. He hates to admit it, but it does make sense. The Titan body armor, the top-of-the-line assault rifle, the incredible AIPR0N: There’s no way Will could’ve got those things without accumulating a serious stack of credits. If Will really had a key, it would explain the secret of his success.

  Kilgore’s mouth is suddenly dry. The game is connected—big time. There are countless millions of players, and every single one of them provides a direct link from their gamer profile to their bank account. Somewhere, deep with the game, there are links to every major bank in the world. An encryption key could open up a host of system-wide vulnerabilities. It could be the ticket to untold riches. “It’s incredible,” he whispers.

  “And I was doing pretty good for a while there,” Will continues, “but then one day, the key wouldn’t work anymore.”

  “The system detected the breach,” Kilgore says. “It reset the key.”

  “You don’t say.” Will snorts. “I figured that part out all by myself.”

  “Then tell me this, smartass—why would there be a key like that inside the game? It doesn’t make sense.”

  Will looks up to the sky. “Jesus Christ!” he mutters. “Do I have to explain every goddamned thing?”

  “Damn straight,” Kilgore insists. “But I’m not stupid. Give me the short version, all right?”

  Will takes a breath. “All right. Here’s the edited highlights. You’ve heard of Jacob Grimwood, right?”

  “Sure. Who hasn’t? Big-time game designer back in the day. Made a few million bucks and bought an island.”

  “Oh yeah,” Will says. “He’s the hero of every two-bit code punk on the planet. But what you don’t know is this—Jacob Grimwood is currently locked up. He’s in jail. Thirteen counts of conspiracy to commit fraud—twelve years apiece.”

  Kilgore snorts. “What did he do—dodge his taxes? Who doesn’t?”

  Will stares in silence for a moment, his brow furrowed. “He’s a hacker, you idiot. A thief. He took a fortune out of the game. Billions.”

  “No way. It would’ve been on the news, in the chat rooms—”

  “Are you kidding?” Will interrupts. “No one’s that naive. Have you any idea how much this game is worth? Did you ever stop to think about the scale of it—worldwide?”

  Kilgore bristles. “Skip the lecture, Will.”

  “Just think about it. The game has an economy greater than all of Europe put together, a turnover bigger than any multinational you can think of. But if people think it isn’t secure—if they can’t trust it—the whole thing comes crashing down.”

  Kilgore raises his chin. “I get it, all right? They hushed it up. So Grimwood hid this key in the game—for what? For kicks?”

  “Of course not, you idiot. He was always three steps ahead of the feds and five steps removed from the crime. That’s why they took him down for conspiracy. In real life, the key is buried deep in the kernel code, but Grimwood realized he could set up a way to access it from inside the game. He could use it in here, tapping into the game’s trading system, and nobody would ever know. All he needed was an interface, and he could pay plenty to have people build it up, piece by piece. None of them saw the bigger picture. None of them knew what they were really building.”

  Kilgore stays silent for a moment. This is either an astonishing discovery or the biggest crock of bullshit he’s ever heard. As things stand, it could go either way. He tilts his head slightly to one side and gives Will a long, questioning look. “Prove it to me.”

  “What?”

  “You heard. Prove it to me. Make it stand up.”

  A sneer threatens to curl Will’s lip, but he controls it, turns it into a tight smile. “OK, Kilgore, you asked for it. Your dad’s name is Mervin. He stays home mostly—ever since he got kicked out the army on a disability pension. Your mom moved out soon after—lives on Bank Street in a two-room apartment. She just got a new job in the bakery. Did you know that? Only you never seem to visit, and you don’t call much either.”

  Kilgore scowls, his eyes burning, his face pale, the tendons in his neck bulging beneath his skin. But
before he can speak, Will steps forward and grabs him by the shoulder. He leans in, pushing his face close until the two men are practically nose to nose.

  “You question me, you little punk?” Will growls. “I have access to more information than you could ever dream of. Do you seriously think I have to justify myself to you? Do you?”

  Kilgore struggles free, pushes Will away. “You’re a goddamned maniac. For Christ’s sake. You’ve been spying on me? You set me up?”

  “I had to check you out—of course I did.” Will pauses, wipes his hand across his face. “You’ve got to understand what we’re talking about here. It’s worth billions. Billions! Do you think I’d risk it all on a chance encounter with some random game-head?”

  Kilgore takes a step back and points at Will, his finger jabbing the air repeatedly as he speaks. “Man, I knew you were a piece of work, but this!”

  “And what would you do in my shoes, huh? Would you maybe prowl the forums, see which guys are at the top of their game? Would you find the one guy everyone else is talking about?”

  Kilgore hesitates, his mouth open. He lowers his hand. “What? People are talking—about me?”

  “Did you think no one would notice the way you play? You’re not the only smart gamer in the world, you know. There’s plenty of people know how to crawl the data. They’ve tracked your performance, and they figured you must have some sort of angle—a cheat code or something.”

  Kilgore’s eyes lose their focus, and he blinks rapidly as his imagination shifts up a gear. If people are watching him, monitoring his games, they could be wise to his illegal mods. He could be in real trouble—the kind that comes with lawyers. And he doesn’t have a leg to stand on; he knew the rules, and he broke them whenever he could. Agrippine Experience will sue him—they’re well known for it. And when he can’t pay—what then? Will he be thrown in jail? And what will happen to his dad? The old man can’t cope on his own. He needs someone to look after him.

  Kilgore pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes for a second. Maybe he’s jumping ahead. Sure, Will tracked him down, but he’s an even bigger rule breaker; there’s no way he’s going to turn anyone over to Agrippine. So perhaps there’s still time to limit the damage. He turns his attention back to Will. “These people—they knew about my HUD?”

  Will gives a half shrug. “It was mentioned a few times but not by anyone you’d take seriously. Just a shot in the dark. Nobody ever guessed at its full potential. You must’ve done a pretty good job of covering your tracks.”

  “OK,” Kilgore says, nodding to himself. “So it’s OK. I can log off then come back later, start taking the HUD apart, smuggle it out bit by bit, the same way I brought it in. I won’t leave a trace. No one will be able to prove a thing.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Will demands, and his voice is taut with suppressed anger. “I’ve just told you how you can get rich beyond your wildest dreams, and you’re talking about quitting? After what we just went through?”

  “Forget it, Will. This is getting too weird.”

  “For Christ’s sake! You can get rid of your HUD later if you want to. I won’t stand in your way. But right now, we need it. All we’ve got to do is hack through the security, and AIPR0N can do that for us. The key is there waiting for us. I know exactly where it is.”

  Will’s impassioned plea hits home, and Kilgore’s head jerks back as a flash of realization hits him smack between the eyes. “Wait a minute. You’ve been here before. You’ve played out this whole thing. That’s how you got the key before. That’s how you know exactly where it is now. Jesus! I should’ve figured it out.”

  Will shakes his head slowly. “You’re wrong, Hank. I’ve never played out this scenario.”

  “Don’t give me that. Of course you’ve been here. You’ve been lying the whole time.” Kilgore moves his rifle, holding it with both hands, gripping it tight. He raises his voice. “Why didn’t you say something? Why the hell didn’t you tell me what to do back there at the barricade? Or even before then, when we were pinned down?”

  “Because that was all new to me. Christ! Isn’t it obvious? Sure, I took a key before. I already told you that. And I explained about the percussion mines, although there were even more GDL this time around. But that’s the point—there’s no way the game will let anyone get away with the same shit twice. Not at this level. And I honestly haven’t made it this far since they threw up the barricade. I had no idea how to get through it. That was all down to you.”

  “Bullshit, man. You’ve lied through your teeth all along. What in the hell makes you think I’d believe you now?” Kilgore glares at Will for a moment then turns away. That’s it. Finished.

  But Will steps forward and grabs him by the arm, pulling him back around until they’re face to face. “You’re smarter than this, Hank. You can see the truth in what I’m saying. You know, probably better than anybody, how the game had to harden its defenses. It couldn’t risk a breach, so it threw up an impregnable barricade. But we did it! They did their best to keep us out, but we beat them anyway. You should be proud of yourself.”

  “Proud?” Kilgore shakes his head in disbelief. “Do you think you can just say that and turn my head? Do you seriously believe that’s all it takes?”

  Will dips his chin. “OK. Fair enough. I didn’t mean to blow smoke up your ass. That’s the last thing I want to do. But there’s still only one real question that matters, right here, right now.”

  “And what’s that exactly?”

  Will fixes his eyes on him. “How bad do you want to be rich and have one of these for yourself?” He holds out his assault rifle, and the Elite maker’s mark glints in the sunlight.

  Kilgore tries not to look at the rifle, and he almost succeeds. But it calls out to him, stirs something in his gut. And when he lowers his gaze, despite himself, he bites his bottom lip.

  As soon as Kilgore looks down, Will allows himself a satisfied smirk. “You know, Hank, a rifle like this—it’s more than just a fine weapon. There’s a lot that goes along with it. Status. Prestige.”

  Kilgore looks up and lets his eyes roam over the rifle, but he keeps his mouth closed, his lips pulled tight against his teeth.

  “And it’s not like you’d be taking anything you hadn’t earned. You’ll have to play your heart out to get through the security. And when you make it through—and you will—you’ll deserve a weapon like this.”

  Kilgore looks Will in the eye. “I’m not selling you my HUD, man. No way.”

  “OK,” Will says gently. “So how do we do this?”

  Kilgore opens his mouth to speak, then he changes his mind. He turns away from Will and takes a few steps then stands still, staring out along barren emptiness of the rocky ridge. What the hell am I doing? he asks himself. But he already knows the answer. He’s going to go for it. Because if there’s even the tiniest chance he can get the best weapon money can buy, he’s got to take it. And if he can bring home a stack of credits into the bargain, it sure would help his situation. He might even be in a position to help his dad. He could pay for a decent doctor: someone better than those army jerks. Their only answer to his dad’s problems is to dope the old man up to the eyeballs, keep him quiet. So yes, this is a big risk. There’s a good chance Will plans to rip him off along the way. There’s a huge chance the whole mission will fail. But the possible payoff? Bigger than anything he’s ever dreamed of. And he’s had some pretty big dreams.

  Kilgore turns to face Will. “All right, let’s say we do this. There’s only one way it’s going to work. Like I said before, you tell me where the key is, and I’ll bring it back. We split everything fifty-fifty.”

  Will smiles. “I’m not going to just tell you where it is. But I’ll tell you what we’ll do. You go through the minefield. When you run into the defenses, you’ll need AIPR0N. I’ll talk you through it over the voice channel. But we can’t split the key. I know how to use it; you don’t.”

  Kilgore opens and close
s his mouth. “What? That’s no good. What’s in it for me? Why risk my neck?”

  “Because you’ll be going into GDL territory. There are armories over there—whole rooms just bursting with the best gear you’ve ever seen—all top of the line. You can help yourself. Anything you find, you can keep, but I must have that key. Do you understand?”

  “Sure,” Kilgore says. “I understand you’re trying to screw me over. You said I’d get credits, but as soon as you get the key you’ll be out of here and I’ll never see a dime.”

  “For god’s sake!” Will growls. “I’ll make sure you get a kickback. It’ll be the best payday you ever had—maybe the only one you’ll ever need. But here, let me just­—” He looks away, focusing on his HUD. “That should do it. Now, check your account.”

  Kilgore narrows his eyes. He can’t trust Will, not for a second, but he calls up his billing account anyway. “Holy shit!” Last time he checked he had a couple hundred credits or so. Now, he has a shade over half a million. Half a goddamned million!

  “That’s just a down payment,” Will says. “Bring me back the key, and I’ll add another one million credits. Hell, do a good job, and I’ll make it two million.”

  Kilgore stares at him, and for the first time in a while, he has no idea what he should say.

  “Call it a gesture of goodwill,” Will says. “I’m putting my faith in you. Can you do the same for me?”

  Kilgore’s not sure if he can trust his voice, but he tips his chin up and manages to say, “Sure. For now.”

  “You’ll do it then? You’ll get the key—with my help?”

  Kilgore nods once. “I’ll do it. But listen, man, I’ve had enough bullshit to last me a lifetime, all right? From now on, you tell me everything you know or the deal is off.”

  “Sure,” Will says. He glances toward the top of the ridge. “The minefield is due east from here. Do you want me to take you, or shall I just wait here?”

  “You can wait,” Kilgore says. “I can find it myself.” He turns around until his HUD tells him he’s facing east. “I can find it better than anybody.”