Alexander Plansky - Arcadia

“It’s more than that, Desmond,” Bateman snarled. “The games might not cause mass shootings or violent behavior, but it’s societal degradation . The proliferation of bloody and explicit imagery, the mass devaluing of human life through the increased popularity of first-person shooters and criminal sandboxes like Grand Theft Auto …”

“But you didn’t stop there, Lance. No, you had dedicated your entire life to the anti-violent media crusade. You weren’t about to leave the arena empty-handed. So, you and your crazy fucking Family First friends decided to create something that would actually induce a homicidal rage. You spent millions of dollars creating advanced virtual reality neurotech so you could torture gamers’ minds until it had the desired effect.

“But you couldn’t move the Dream Machines around, so you had to bring the gamers to some remote location to brainwash them. You picked Las Vegas because it’s a popular destination and because it’s surrounded by desert, the perfect place to build an installation like this. You don’t have to worry about random people walking in and your security costs would be less. That’s why you had so few guards. In fact, I think Jackson is the only actual security guard.”

“I’m more than enough,” he grunted, his pistol still at his side.

“Wasn’t talking to you, asshole,” Lewis said. He turned back to Bateman. “Once this place was built and ready, that’s when you began sending out the Rogue Horizon copies with the subliminal ‘Arcadia awaits’ message. You sent them to people like Charlie Wong and Jake Miller, even your own daughter . You probably even paid someone to write that Atlantic article.”

“Didn’t have to,” Bateman said. “The author was a regular donor to Family First. We simply asked her a favor.”

“But then a couple things fucked up, didn’t they? First, Jake began investigating you after you sent him a copy of the game. He suspected something about this place before he even got here, but the day he died, you tried to snag him back at his hotel.”

“No,” Jackson growled. “The normal procedure is to kidnap them while they’re here during the day. He attempted to break in after-hours and I caught him in the main lobby. He managed to steal my gun and made it back to his car, which was parked in the desert just across the road. I chased him, but he got ahead and pulled aside at a gas station. I knew he’d have to take US-93 to get back to Vegas, so I ambushed him there. It worked better than I expected. I tried to ram him off the road, but he swerved off a hill without any damage to my car. Then I used a light rig to scare him and finished the job. Whole thing looked like an accident. We only ran a night op kidnapping you two tonight because you and your girlfriend left during the day before we could snag you – and Mr. Zhao was here.”

“I knew about none of this,” Zhao said, putting his hands up. He shot Bateman and Jackson angry looks. “They took my dream and turned it into a nightmare.”

“Stop trying to be poetic,” Bateman sneered. “You were a washed-up developer. We only picked you because of the serial killer simulator and the stint you did with the CIA.”

Zhao sighed, turning to Lewis. “The original version of Rogue Horizon was a test project for the government. After the subjects began having violent dreams, it was shut down. I managed to keep some of the files… I mean, I’d worked hard on that game! But we all agreed it was for the best to end it. It never became a twisted psychological experiment like this.”

Lewis directed his attention back to Bateman. “What kind of sick bastard sacrifices his own daughter for a social cause?”

He laughed. “That’s where you’re wrong, Desmond. You misinterpret my motivations. I’m not sacrificing Jenna for a failing social cause; my wife and I are sacrificing ourselves to save Jenna.”

Now everybody looked confused.

Bateman continued. “I didn’t dedicate these past years of my life to this project just because I hated violent video games. I believe they’re a cultural cancer, but more importantly, they’ve irreparably damaged the mind of my daughter. They corrupted her innocence and distorted her brain, just like they did to the minds of millions of other children across this country, across the world. How many more parents have to suffer watching their sons and daughters devolve into violent savages, Desmond? How many more impressionable young minds have to be scarred by the violence of the media, and worst of all, violent interactive media?

“I knew Jenna was secretly buying violent games for her computer for many years. Patricia and I found them in a drawer. I played some of them myself while we debated whether or not to confront her about it. And you know what I thought? Some of them weren’t half bad. They were pretty well made, and I almost started enjoying myself once I got the hang of the controls – that was always the worst part. But then… I realized what they were doing to me, playing off my baser animalistic instincts. The games were rated M for Mature, but the developers knew they would be played by children. They knew exactly what they were doing.

“Ultimately, we did confront her. We grounded her, took the games away, and banned her from using the computer for several months. It was for her own good. But she went into withdrawal from those things and never recovered. By then she was off at USC, out of the house where we couldn’t control her. She got diagnosed with borderline personality disorder, but I don’t think the shrinks really knew what they were talking about. The mood swings, the sudden aggression… that had to be the games, Desmond. The games did it to her. There was no other explanation.”

“So, because you refused to accept your failure as a parent, you conceived an elaborate murder scheme to get back at her?”

“No, no, no, to get back at them – the games, the developers, the society that promotes that kind of bullshit. That’s why this is all coming to an end now. There are others we sent Rogue Horizon to, but since my daughter’s completed her time in the Dream Machine, there’s no need for more bloodshed. To cap off the past six months of violence by gamers, first-person shooter champion Jenna Bateman is going to violently butcher her two parents to death in their Beverly Hills home. She’s then going to be arrested and institutionalized by police officers we’ve paid off to be close to the scene so that she’ll be unable to kill herself in time.

“Don’t you see it, Desmond? My daughter is finally going to get the help she needs! And she’ll get to fulfill her lifelong dream: to kill her mother and I. She screamed at us when we grounded her, smashed plates and glasses on the floor. Patricia and I had never been so afraid in our lives. Jenna later said sorry, of course, but I had seen the real her in that moment, the version of my daughter that she hid from everyone else: violent, hateful, and aggressive. There had been outbursts before, but none that severe, and that’s when it became clear to me that games were a complete menace, that someone had to stop them.

“So while Jenna is undergoing treatment, my wife and I will be martyred for the cause. Lance and Patricia Bateman, two anti-violent media activists who were murdered by their own crazed champion gamer daughter. The deaths over the past half a year were just the buildup. This is the main event. My friends at Family First are already preparing the biggest lobbying push in our history. They’re going to start marches in D.C., Democrats and Republicans alike, all fighting for a new era of family-friendly entertainment, to control violent content and hold the film, television, and gaming industries accountable once and for all. My son James will probably take up my mantle once he graduates from college and use what video games did to his family to lead the charge. My only regret is that I won’t live to see it.”