Codename: Freedom - Book 5 - Chapter 15

It didn’t surprise me when Barrell had us return to the guy that added extra thick padding to ballistic armor. He’d never even been a football player, but he liked to hit things with his shoulder.

As for the rest of us, we all spent a little on stuff we didn’t need. Some of us more than others.

One thing that I didn’t know about Kline was that he was into collecting war memorabilia. And we’re not talking about augmented versions, but the real thing. Specifically, he had a thing for knives. Almost every booth that had some he bought something from as long as it was fifty years or older. He was also doing well financially. His ugly mug was memorable. So he bought at least a dozen with a two-hundred-year-old magnetic dagger that could change its magnetic poles with the flip of a switch as his prize. It even still worked. It was created to pierce a popular electromagnetic field that was one of the earliest versions of current E-Field tech.

Barrell went overboard buying shadow drone accessories. Shadow drones were the ones that followed you around while carrying your gear. They were stationed near the place we would be staying. One was a micro atmospheric water generators(AWG). It collected moisture from the air and stored up to two gallons. This way if he ran out of water and the ability to purify it, his drone would gather it for him.

It was an interesting idea even if it was rarely practical. Even the most basic AI powered drone could scout for water sources in the driest desert. In the type of environment where water couldn’t be found, it was unlikely there would be enough humidity for it to matter. Its main selling point was the convenience.

As for Mel and me, we spent money on food. The other guys did as well, but we tried everything. There were other things like booths with jewelry that he checked out in case he saw something that Olivia might like. I looked as well but knew better than to get anything.

There were random Jinhwa booths setup throughout the convention center. The one Hwan stopped to speak with at length had gone full cyborg. The guy still looked human, but most of his face were made of synthetic skin-line plates. His eyes changed color depending on what he was feeling, and his voice was well practiced like that of a Metacaster.

I knew Hwan well enough to know he was grossed out by large implants, but it made me ponder how it would affect our future if he delved into the cybernetic enhancements. The Jinhwa themselves hadn’t participated in a genuine battle for over two hundred years. The only exceptions were the small skirmishes that happened when they inadvertently met with the Ekseliksi usually during exploration missions. Jinhwa owned space was much further away than Earth. There were few large confrontations between the two peoples.

Despite the separation by distance, the Jinhwa were always looking to make a buck. They’d invented the Cube technology and pursued the idea of a long-term virtual war for this very purpose. If humanity’s resources were spent virtually, including lives, then not only could they profit from war, but much of the tragic loss would never take place. That meant even more profit.

What Hwan was in the market for was improved stealth technology. It was impossible not to notice the parallel of constant progress between the Jinhwa technology and Ekseliksi bio enhancements. Philosophically they were the same, yet exact opposites.

Perhaps what bothered me the most was realizing that if Hwan pursued cybernetics, it wouldn’t bother me at all. Not that I thought it was the best approach, but considering his approach to combat, there weren’t many Ekseliksi answers to stealth technology.

Technically, I knew of some bio enhancements that could give him chameleon-like abilities, but they would so thoroughly change him that he’d hardly be able to walk around in Earth-space.

The Metacaster booths were in the other convention hall where they could do meet and greets, sale merch, and sign autographs, but there were a few well known ones wandering around doing live streams and getting their own footage.

It was an odd situation because normally reporters sought out the people they wanted to interview. However, there were far more Vanguard participants than Metacasters with large platforms, so the situation was reversed.

For lunch, we found the section of the floor with food stations and decided on one called Protein Pasta. We walked away with small tubs of a type of pasta we chose as long as a sauce with meatballs. Each pasta and sauce were enhanced with added protein. The trick was that they’d figured out how to add it without affecting the flavor or degrading the protein. I chose a vodka sauce over rigatoni. The rest of the guys mainly chose fettuccine alfredo or Bolognese sauce. We all loaded up on meatballs.

Destiny estimated that I was holding one hundred and twenty grams of protein. And man did it tasted good. I’d substitute that for a protein shake any day.

We stuck together until late afternoon. By the time dinnertime was drawing near, I was ready for another tub of pasta. Instead, we split up to head to our convention rooms that were limited by rank. The rooms went as follows. The Champions Room was for those ranked in the Vanguard top 100. The Elites Room for the top 1,000. The Alphas were for the top 10,000, and The Deltas were for the top 100,000. The Soldiers Room was for everyone else. Suffice it to say, the rooms that allowed more participants were far larger. They also held less luxuries.

There were a few rules. One, you could enter any room that allowed your rank and below. So I would technically have access to every room. A person could bring one other person with them to their room that didn’t qualify but only if they were your spouse or your date. That was why Olivia was tagging along as Mel’s second.

If I were honest, I was surprised the two of us even made the cut now that there were over one hundred rank D Vanguard participants. I’d sped around the enemies in the last event where guys like Brendon Black had muscled through them. Which made me question what the criteria really was. Destiny made it clear that there was a political lean to it, as well as one for the sake of entertaining the fans on the Meta.

Out of our group, Mel and I would be the only two heading to the Champions. Kline would attend the Elites, while Barrel had reached the Alphas with the bulk of our most talented psionic users like Isamu, Drool, Vector, etc.

Hwan, though only unlocking his psionics a few months ago, had made the cut for the Deltas. The top 100,000 might not sound like much, but it meant that he’d surpassed several people from Freedom and Genesis. It was undoubtedly because of how proficient he was with stealth tech. From day one he made an impact on the battlefield. After months exploring Hectate with our stealth specialist, he’d improved a lot.

The only room that was arguably more renowned than the Champions was the one form battalion commanders. Colonels like Victoria, Edmond leading Lethal Accord, and Alexander Ruiz of the Forefathers were the people invited. They had a little more freedom with who they could bring with them. Peter and Oliver would both remain with her. It was a room that could easily hold 5,000.

I briefly spoke with Victoria on our way to the top floor of the convention center.

“Remember that they are your competition, but also your allies,” she lectured.

Muttering into my headset, I retorted, “You better not forget it either.”

I knew that the puff of air I heard was accompanied by an eye roll even if I couldn’t see her. “Yeah. Yeah. Don’t let them look down on you because of your age and inexperience. You’ve earned your place there. Don’t be surprised if some of them don’t want you there, or more likely, want to undermine your confidence. Vanguard hasn’t stopped even if the competition is on hold.”

A grin slowly stretched across my face. “Good reminder,” I said, holding back any wise comments. “Have fun with the political intrigue and all that.”

Her laugh was genuine. “Oh, I will.”

Mel and Olivia had dressed up in a formal suit and evening gown. When I asked him about it possibly causing them to stand out, he replied, “The food is supposed to be Michelin Star quality. I’m not going to miss a chance to go on a date with my girl just because other people might be uncomfortable.”

I watched as Olivia who had a strong personality turned bright red and smiled shyly.

I cuffed my friend on the back. Though he struggled with confidence in some areas, in others he was as confident and competent as anyone.

He added, “Don’t mind us. If you get pulled into a conversation or have some people you want to talk to, go for it. We’ll be doing our own thing.”

I thanked them. I wasn’t adept at social gatherings like Victoria was, so being able to retreat and hang out with them was a relief.

When we arrived, there was no need for special passes or sighing in. Two uniformed men stood at the double-wide entrance with a drone hovering overhead, confirming the identities of everyone that arrived.

The doors were being opened for us before we even reached the entrance. There wasn’t a single person I didn’t recognize.

Walking over the threshold, we were met by the man who had requested everyone to come. The “Real” Major Jeff Wright had a physique that matched any Combat Master. Unlike Cornelius and Achilles, his specialty wasn’t melee combat for sport or entertainment. He’d been participating in life and death combat for more than half a century.

A half smile froze on my face as he offered me his hand. I was dazed momentarily. Even though we’d been competing with each other, he was the real deal.

My hand grasped his massive paw.

“Major Lucius Edwards,” he said while shaking it. “Thank you for joining us.”

“It’s an honor, Major Wright,” I managed, holding his handshake a little longer than proper. I released my grip.

The freshly shaven black man with a jaw of temper steel gave me a warm smile. “How are your parents?”

It took me a second to snap out of it and remember their recent ordeal. “They’re managing well. Knowing my father, he’s not going to let anything like that happen again.”

“So you take after him?”

“In a roundabout way, yes.” I was surprised to hear myself saying. But it was true enough. I was as obsessive as he was. Narrowing my gaze, I asked with a smirk, “Have you reached rank D?”

He released a deep chuckle. “So direct. But no, I’m at the peak or rank E. Should reach it in time for the next event, though.”

“Good. I wouldn’t want it to be unfair.”

“Arrogant welp,” a voice sounded from an average sized white guy with greasy black hair and was thickly built. The man had a golden tan and afternoon shadow that gave him an energetic appearance. He had a perpetual smirk as he stepped up and looked down his nose at me.

“Master Sergeant Brendon Black,” Major Wright introduced.

I held out my hand while the Real Major greeted Mel and Olivia.

Brendon snorted but grasped it. Not without turning it into a gripping contest, of course.

He didn’t have the experience of the Real Major, but he was still a veteran with close to a decade of experience on the battlefield. He also had rank D psionics. He was arguably number one on the Vanguard list currently.

I smirked, matching his. It was a contest I wasn’t confident in, but that wouldn’t stop me. My ability to heal would allow me to endure. When he’d been just a few strides away from the finish line in the last event I had crossed it, stealing first place.

He was in control and knew it. Nodding his head as if scrutinizing my strength, he kept it up for a few long seconds before letting go. When he did, he stiffened and said, “I won’t lose to you in the same way again.”

“There’s plenty of other ways,” I countered.

He burst out laughing. “Crushing you is going to be fun.”

“I’m here to humble.”

His smirk grew. Then he gave me a Kline-level smack to the shoulder. “I don’t like you, but that was some find work you did to those terrorists. Your skills just aren’t for show.”

“Thank you?”

The giant Master Sergeant Ebrima Okoro joined us. “Is Brendon being a thorn in your side, Major Edwards?”

I shook the man’s hand again. “Not at all. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

It was then that Brendon’s temper flared, “The only reason you’re here is because of your ‘guild’s’ popularity. You’ve had a good run, but now that Genesis is reaching rank D, Prodos is done.”

“Brendon,” Ebrima Okoro warned.

“Am I wrong?” the man insisted. “Personally, I don’t care if they’re here. This is their reward for doing well up until this point, but by the end of the week, everyone will know where they stand. I’d be surprised if Prodos reaches top ten in the next competition.”

It wasn’t just those standing there, but the entire room went silent.

I studied the man for a long moment before asking, “You know what we’ll be competing in?”

Brendon shook his head. “No. It doesn’t matter. You’re talented, but you have no idea how superior rank D is to rank E. You simply can’t compete.”

Maybe if he was directing his comment to anyone else, he’d be right, but I was more familiar with rank D psionics than the rest of the Vanguard participants combined. Except for Victoria, Peter, and Oliver, how many of them daily faced a genuine Krato? The rank of Krato didn’t just require someone to have rank D psionics, but to be the best of the best of rank D users. They were the elite of a people that had tens of thousands if not millions of rank D users. The exact number was unclear.

The truth was, I’d been training to fight rank D users before anyone in Vanguard had reached that rank. Which meant I knew how true Brendon’s words were. Even though only a handful of users from each battalion would reach rank D, a single squad would greatly outclass Prodos in every way. The only person from our ‘guild’ that would reach rank D by the next event was the well-dressed guy over at the bar with his girlfriend who had bypassed this discussion entirely.

My response was measured but didn’t lack barbs. “If you underestimate us, you’ll regret it.”

It was at that moment that the chef’s assistant announced, “Dinner is served.”

Because of the type of event where people were coming and going, they’d chosen to do a potluck style layout. There were plenty of tables for people to sit, but there was also an island sports bar streaming several Metacasters and live feeds of the convention. The strangest part was what they called the gentleman’s spa. One half of the room held a hot tub, sauna, steam room, ice plunge, as well as several massage tables, and hair stylists just hanging out. Despite being quite wealthy, I’d been so tied to my Cube that I had no experience with such things.

The Real Major remained at the door to greet newcomers while Ebrima Okoro suggested we get something to eat while Brendon Black headed in the same direction.

Everyone we passed greeted us. Only about ten of us rushed to get food. Many people were standing or sitting in small groups deep in discussions while at least a third of the top one hundred ranked Vanguard participants had headed straight to the spa. There were a dozen incredibly well-built guys in spa provided swimming trunks spread out amongst the hot tub, sauna, and lying there on massage tables they were a little too large for. Watching a small petite woman jump up and body slam a man the size of a Combat Master just to get his back to pop was a sight to behold.

While standing in line, I tried to keep my composer as I listened to the variety of things being served. I’d heard of many of them, but they were the kind of dishes served at only the highest-end restaurants.

Destiny chose that time to save me, but not without appearing in the corner of my eye piece with steam blowing out of her ears. “That Brendon Black is annoying,” she asserted. “You should get a sampler. No reason not to take advantage.”

I grinned. And so, I got my first taste of what was considered luxury dining even if I did sit with Brendon Black nearby who never stopped complaining. What struck me more than anything was how real everyone was. Bigger than life, sure, but they were really just people. Some of them were likeable, others, not so much. It made things easier. I was no longer any illusions. The fantastical versions of them I had in my mind were grounded by what I learned.

This was my competition, but also the men and women I’d be fighting with. That made it a surreal experience. One I enjoyed.

If only the four days of the convention could remain this way. That was something the Game Devs would never allow.