Alexander Plansky - Arcadia

He wanted to see how much I knew , Lewis thought. The bastard was probing. Then why had he been so angry? Probably didn’t like being reminded of what he’s really doing, doesn’t want to think of the ethical implications of his work. He could imagine some CIA spook selling him on the project as a great research opportunity for both video gaming and neuroscience, laced with a little patriotism to remind him that he’d be somehow helping fight the good fight.

He sipped his margarita absent-mindedly. What purpose did Arcadia serve in all of this? Why lure everyone out from across the country to the same point? To anyone trying to piece the mystery of the murderous gamers together, the connection would be obvious. Getting people to believe it was the hard part, and Lewis bet Zhao and his associates were banking on that. But clearly, Rogue Horizon alone wasn’t enough to drive people to commit violent acts. Something else was needed to set them off, a neurological switch that had to be flipped.

Granted, there was a lot of Arcadia they hadn’t seen. It was entirely possible the main building was just a front to lend an air of legitimacy to the whole operation, but there’d been some kind of second building and more space behind the first. Not to mention that construction site. Lewis highly doubted they were really building a NASA training ground.

At this point though, he’d reached a dead end. There was nothing concrete he’d been able to draw from his visit earlier today and he couldn’t go back there now. He wondered what Zhao would do. The lack of Google results indicated that he and his associates were trying to bury their front as far as possible. If that really was the case, they might try to interfere with him in some way before he left Vegas.

Lewis sighed and shook his head. He was losing his mind. Maybe it really was best just to let this all go. Drop the article, go back to his other story, to L.A., to some semblance of the life he’d had before this all started.

“You look deep in thought,” Jenna said.

He snapped out of his reverie. “Sorry.” He sipped his margarita again.

“Maybe we should do something fun tonight, take our minds off all the shit that’s happened.” She nudged his shoulder. “Maybe finally go to a nightclub?” She smiled and looked hopeful.

He shook his head. “I feel too tired today. Maybe tomorrow night, for our last night on the town. I’d honestly rather just chill back in the suite and watch a movie.”

She sighed, understanding. “Okay.”

He thought for a moment. “I think I’m gonna take a walk around the pool area. Just for five minutes or so. I’ll be right back.”

“Alright,” Jenna said. She seemed emotionally deflated.

Lewis felt bad leaving her there, but he had to make this call. There was only one person who would still believe him. He strolled off to a secluded area of the pool, the only spot he could find that was devoid of sunbathers, and leaned against a tall palm tree.

Ricky picked up on the third ring. “Hey man, what’s the sitch with Arcadia?”

“Not great.” He filled him in on the events of the day.

“Jesus,” he said. Lewis could imagine him shaking his head with a hand to his forehead. “You shouldn’t have gone off on Zhao like that. I know it’s been a rough week, but you gotta keep it together, man.”

“I’m not sure I can. I’m worried it may already be too late.”

“For what?”

“I think that they shoved some subliminal imagery into my gameplay and that that’s how they trigger the mental breakdowns, like what happened to Charlie and the others.”

“Yeah, I’m not so sure about that,” Ricky said. “That’s not how subliminal messaging works. If it did, there’d be no reason to lure everyone out to Nevada, just playing Rogue Horizon by itself would induce the psychoactive effect. And you wouldn’t be able to do anything that much different with the game they had you play, it was still a VR experience with a headset. I don’t see how the haptic suit could have anything to do with brainwashing.”

“So you think there’s something else they do there. A whole process I haven’t seen,” Lewis stated.

“That’s my best guess, but what that is I have no fucking idea.” He paused. “Oh, my cousin in the Nevada State Police got back to me.”

Lewis raised his eyebrows. “What’d he say?”

“Well, he had to call one of the Highway Patrol cops who work US-93. Most of the casework was handled by the Lincoln County Sheriff’s Office, but the highway guys kept a close eye on that one, mainly because nothing ever really happens out there.”

“And?”

“Turns out there was some debate over whether it was truly an accident. You see, the coroner believed the injuries Miller actually died of, a crushed ribcage and internal hemorrhaging, happened after the crash since he probably wouldn’t have been able to crawl that far otherwise. Unless he was a really tough bastard.”

“Yeah, Jake wasn’t.”

“And the toxicology report just came back today, so my cousin was able to snatch this detail: Miller was clean, no drugs.”

“Figures. So why didn’t they investigate further?”

“Pressure from the Sheriff. He wanted the case wrapped quickly and quietly.”

“Why?”

“He didn’t give a reason, just insisted it was an accident and that they were wasting their time because there was no indication the car had been rammed off the road. But I think you and I have seen enough movies to know the real reason.”

Lewis massaged his temples. “Shit, no one else believes me about this.”

“Say, you ever play the original Deus Ex ?”

“Yeah,” Lewis said. “Love that game.”

“Remember how throughout the beginning, you hear all these conspiracy theories about various global events from different characters and as the plot progresses, every single one of them turns out to be correct? I’m starting to feel that way about the Polybius joke I made on Sunday. I’m starting to genuinely think I was on the money and didn’t even know it at the time.”

Lewis nodded. “Could be.”

“The question is, now what?”

He gazed out at the pool. “I’ve got an idea. But it’s a really bad one…”

Lewis sat on the edge of the bed wearing a t-shirt and boxers, staring blankly at the nightly news. The hotel room’s TV was the only source of illumination in the room, save for the light that curled under the bathroom door. He could hear Jenna just finishing up her shower. She’d probably be out soon, so he needed to think quickly.

The registry was the key to everything and it was probably sitting there in Arcadia’s main lobby, or on the receptionist’s computer. If he could just get on there, he was sure he’d find the name of every person listed in that Atlantic article, plus Jake Miller and Charlie Wong. If he could send that to FBI Agent Gonzalez, it would be the crucial evidence she needed to get a warrant for Arcadia.

Unless of course, she was in on it. But in that case, he’d have to write up an article for the Technologist and tell Richter that if anything happened to him, she should go ahead and publish it along with the document.

Arcadia should be closed by now. Surely, he could scale the fence and find some way in. And even if he couldn’t, he’d at least be able to get a better look around the place.

Lewis shook his head, snapping out of it. It was all bullshit. There was no way he’d be able to get in there and hack the computer. Who the hell did he think he was, Jason Bourne?

The bathroom door opened and Jenna stepped out in her pajamas, still drying her hair with a towel. “Hey,” she said. “Wanna watch a movie?”