The Butcher of Gadobhra

The evening sun was setting across the inner sea as one of Her Majesty's sleek airships cruised the skies after another successful adventure. Ozymandias, the only servant on board, was relieved that this adventure was finally over. He wanted the credits in his account and a few hours to relax. Keeping his hosts comfortable and alive during their adventures was a lot of work. His duties included the roles of butler, cook, navigator, trailblazer, dishwasher, and sherpa. And if he wanted to earn his bonus, the adventure had to be successful, which meant being creative when things went sideways. Not that this showed on his face. It was important to never break character while he was at work. His bonus depended on it.

Colonel Carruthers, Count Veelo, and Dr. Barklight were enjoying a roasted leg of veal with garlic potatoes prepared by Ozymandias. Cooking inside the VR game was becoming increasingly difficult. Lamb and everything else tasted like chicken, but he’d managed to disguise the flavor by using extra mint sauce and a salty rub before roasting.

This week's VR adventure had gone surprisingly well despite a few setbacks. Instead of finding the trading post, the good doctor’s skill at map reading had led them into the middle of a cannibal village and into the stew pot. Luckily, the native tribe was willing to trade the recipes in the butler’s cookbook for their release. To celebrate, he prepared a huge pot of his mother's best chicken and dumplings, which satisfied the tribe. After that, the explorers snuck away before the next meal time rolled around.

With more eyes on the map, they found the lost temple and traded the Colonel’s cufflinks to a colony of monkeys for the keys to the treasure vault. It was only a short walk across a crumbling rope bridge after that. Traversing the bridge resulted in the Doctor and Count falling onto a small island in the watery pit where a monster crocodile lived. Ozzy had been watching as it happened; a glitch in the graphics had disguised the missing planks. Glitches like that were happening more and more if you paid attention.

All looked lost until, in his haste to find a length of rope, the butler clumsily dropped the inflatable raft and air canister into the open mouth of the hungry reptile. The raft had inflated within the beast, causing it great distress and embarrassment, and it slunk away into the jungle. Ozzy suspected that the game simply didn’t know how to deal with the situation and counted it as a win. One advantage to the game’s increasing glitchiness was winning by doing the unexpected.

After Ozzy had fetched the airship and picked up his employers, he’d prepared dinner and served drinks so the trio could recover from their harrowing adventure and plan for next week. They decided to head to a small group of islands to the west of them to buy supplies and then make their way to the next adventure zone. Ozzy was taking notes so he could plan the adventure properly.

“Very good, sir. I’ll have the airship ready to go for next weekend’s adventure. Your skills and bravery are needed around the world. A cable arrived just this afternoon from the Golden Monks of Mandipoor, beseeching your aid. Something about a long-lost enchanted tea set. And the Lady Flyers Auxiliary sent a cable. It seems Countess Froufrou has crashed on the Jungle Isle of Braneelo. Either quest offers adventure, loot, and additional awards of a pleasurable nature. Which shall it be, sir?”

Colonel Carruthers mulled over the decision but came to a quick conclusion “Harumph…Countess Froufrou? That woman can lose her way and half her clothing in the most interesting ways. A damsel in distress trumps monks and a tea set, even if they do make a good cup of tea. To Braneelo, it shall be Ozymandias!”

Count Veelo was looking at his notebook. “Excellent. I’ll be needing a break after next week. We’ve been driving down the stock of a small company called Exelon for months, and it is finally time to scoop it up, merge it with Raxxon’s energy division, and make a hefty profit. After a full week of clearing out the old employees, I’ll be up for a little exploration and recreation with the Lady Flyers. By the way, we’ll be making our move when the stock hits 17 cents a share, gentlemen; buying in at 18 to 20 will let you triple your money overnight.”

The Colonel turned to his butler, “Send me a reminder to call my accountant Ozzy. When opportunity knocks, you have to strike while the iron is hot. The Colonel often forgot the details of conversations he had with his friends in other corporations and had been relying on his butler to send him reminders more and more.

“Curses! We are undone!” Doctor Barklight drummed his fingers on the table as he stared at a calendar. “I have an all-hands meeting with the Board of ACME. Something about the new VR game and getting in on the ground floor.”

Carruthers looked up from his veal suddenly, nearly spilling his wine. “Curses, indeed! I’d forgotten. We have a similar meeting at Tesladyne. It completely slipped my mind. Janine threatened to send anyone late to the mail room for a year. Frankly, this new game can’t come soon enough. It’s nearly impossible to run our direct-to-customer merchanting through this dinosaur. It’s gone to shit since we lost the AI support. Isn’t the new one supposed to be an improved version?”

Barklight nodded. “I’m refreshing my memory now from the memos. I wasn’t sure the board would bite on the proposal. That damned pile of circuits is in charge of this one. It demands that everyone use the MK7 pods. Horribly expensive things. Especially when part of the buy-in for each corporation is supplying them to all of the human-run NPCs. Why do we need humans to run the NPCs if an AI runs things again?”

The Doctor wagged a finger at him. “Come, sir! What are you saying? Give up our splendid servants? I prefer my butlers and gardeners to be humans, not some program running on a computer. And need I remind you, my friend, that we now have only one AI in the world? Not 106. An overworked one, from all accounts. I’m amazed that all those self-driving cars your company makes don’t pile up in heaps. Silly having an AI directing a billion cars whizzing around at a hundred miles an hour.”

Carruthers failed to rise to the challenge of the taunt. He’d heard it before. “Do you see me using one? It’s unnerving. A man should be able to drive his own sports car. But the AI does its job. We only had 146 accidents worldwide last year, and those were almost entirely human-caused. But I am intrigued about this game. The VR is claimed to be far superior to what we have used to have in this one. I’ll be happy when my veal doesn’t taste like an overcooked chicken cutlet. No offense, Ozymandias; I know you do your best, and the mint sauce made up for it.”

“None taken, sir. And I, too, look forward to a game in which my culinary skills result in the dish tasting proper. Should I make plans to accompany you to this conference, Colonel?”

The Colonel shook his head, “No, and not by my choice. It’s being held in VR, and I’d prefer to have my own servants. There is supposed to be a large dinner, followed by a presentation. Silly to not allow us to bring servants. But don’t worry, dear boy, whether it’s adventuring in this old game or a new one, there’s no one else I’d rather have at my side. But you should hustle and speak to my accountant. We’ll pick up in two weeks and be off to rescue the lovely Countess Froufrou.”

“Of course, sir, until then.” Ozzy bowed, walked to the galley, and logged out. Hopefully, the three of them didn’t wreck the airship, and the game didn’t glitch on them. That had happened last week, dumping them all into the ocean and ending the scenario early. Ozzy’s base pay for each session was small and depended on generous tips and the bonus for a successful mission. Which was why he added to his meager income by selling what he learned from the casual conversations of corporate vice presidents.

Rather than leave his gaming pod, he logged into another section of the game. This one was a cheap pirate simulation without most of the VR senses. Ozzy counted that as a blessing as he swaggered into the small pub, dressed in worn and tattered pirate gear. He didn’t have to smell the stale beer and sweaty men hovering over their cups of alcohol or playing dice. He walked to the back, where Blarney Bob sat at a table with two of his cronies.

“Well, well, my old pal, the Butcher of Barcelona. I wondered when you’d finally show your face. You owe me a beer, I think, or do you have a tale to tell.”

Ozzy laughed, “A tale. One that these two don’t need to hear. Beat it.” The two sailors moved away to another table. Ozzy sat and waited until he was sure no one was around or listening. “Owe you a beer? I think you owe me about ten grand and not in-game money. What the hell, Bob? It’s unlike you to be late on a payment.”

Bob scratched his ear and looked sheepish. “Yeah, well, I’ve been busy. I have some hot tips. Big stuff is going down. They’re getting ready to shut down a lot of the old VR worlds. Just not profitable without the sale of real-world goods and services. Have you seen the casinos on the Spanish Main? You can’t gamble with real money anymore. You can’t shop for a good book at the Nile Bookstore; they only sell in-game scrolls and history books. It’s sad as hell.”

He looked at Ozzy, his eyes narrowing. “But what if I told you that your old friend Bob has a line on a new hush-hush game that no one seems to know about yet.”

Ozzy lit a cigar and blew smoke at him. Sadly, the smoke was just graphics, and you couldn’t even do smoke rings. “I’d say I’ve already heard the rumors, and you owe me ten grand. I can’t do business with someone who owes me from the last deal, Bob. You know that. You’re forcing me to sell to Jimmy the Weavil. And it’s good stuff. The info I got today is on a drive-down acquisition. A big one. Easy money for someone with your connections.”

Bob sighed, “So fixated on a dollar sign, where has the trust in the world gone?”

Ozzy’s voice had no humor in it. “Dead, along with the last of the big VRMMO games, the AI that ran them, and my regular paychecks. Dollars are important when you rely on weekly side gigs in private scenarios. The bastards are worth millions but cheap when it comes to tipping. So, what’s it going to be? The ten grand, or give me the info upfront and let me judge its worth? I’m not buying bullshit today. If it’s the same stuff I already know, it doesn’t help me.”

“OK, OK! What if I told you this new game had openings for guaranteed, long-term employment, and it came with healthcare? And before you call me a liar, I can back up my claims. There are over a hundred corporations holding big bashes this next weekend, all online. You can check that. That’s the rollout for the new system. I’ve verified that the high-level execs of Alexa Corp, Alchemarx, CubeFood, PentexChem, Nile Books, OmegaMart, MegaMouse, and Yodadyne are all away this weekend for special meetings. And a lot of mid-level management as well.”

Ozzy thought for a moment. “I’d tell you that you can add Teslatech, Raxxon, and ACME to your list. All my ‘Victorian Gentlemen’ are away that weekend as well.”

Bob’s face fell. “Shit, then word is going to get out soon.” He drummed his fingers. “How good is your tip?”

“Guaranteed triple your money in a day, but it’s stocks, and you have to buy at the right moment. It’s going to take a huge downturn, hover, and shoot back.”

Bob was conflicted. “Look, if I pay you, the stock tip is worthless to me. I won’t have the money to buy in. On a good tip, I can make a hefty sum, taking a few percent off the top, but If I’m not seen putting money into a deal, no one else will. They want to see that I have some skin in the game.

“But I’ve got something worth the 10k and maybe a lot more. I’m supposed to get a crew together for the ACME shindig: cooks, waiters, and general staff to run the event. I need one hundred people for a job. You can pick your own crew and charge what you want as your hiring fee. Pay is five hundred per person, per day, for two days of work, but they have to have experience in VR—minimum 20k hours online, with double pay for 40k hours. “

Ozzy whistled softly. Two thousand credits was a lot of money these days, and not a lot of people had that kind of experience. A 40-hour week only added up to 2k hours a year. These guys wanted people who had ten years of full-time experience. Granted, some people stayed in a pod for over two weeks at a time, but that was still a lot of online time. Ozzy had over 80k hours, and so did many of his best friends. Living on the bottom end of society meant jobs were scarce., and at least your body got fed while you were in a pod. You could save more money living online.

“Good pay for a weekend. I’d sign up. But how do you figure that me doing all of your work is worth 10k? I can charge a 10% hiring fee and make my 10k back, but that’s not a good deal compared to 10k in my pocket. And, I’ll point out that your lack of ready funds for this deal shouldn’t be my problem.”

Bob nodded. “I’d go for 20%, and I know how many of your friends are going to make 2k a day. With the right crew, you could make 30k on the deal. But let's not quibble. The big bonus is that you’re there, on-site, when they start hiring. I’ve confirmed two things: Long-term jobs, and you work out of the new MK7 pods that have full medical. Spend a month in one, and you’ll come out better than you went in. And a little birdie tells me you’ve been looking hard for a job that uses a Mk6 pod for someone who isn’t doing well.”

Ozzy leaned back in his chair. Bob's information matched what his gentlemen adventurers had let drop. And if it was true? He had good friends who could benefit from a steady paycheck and full medical—one in particular. It was annoying that Bob knew that, but he hadn’t been exactly secretive about it.

“Tell me more. What are we talking about when you say long-term?” Too many jobs looked like they paid well but were only a small fraction of the week. Eight hours here, four hours there, and overall, it added up to not enough. You were always hustling to line up the next job. His own weekend job was one of the best anyone had these days.

“It’s going to sound crazy, but everything I’ve heard suggests contracts longer than a year, with deep dives into the game and nearly no time out of it.”

Ozzy nodded slowly. That would mean very good money and lots of time in a pod with healthcare.

“Fine. I’m in. Send the information I’ll need to handle the job. Keep the 10k and watch Exelon close; it’s going to dump to sub-twenty, and you need to buy immediately. It will bounce back when it hits seventeen.”

Bob smiled, and they shook hands. “One more thing, you promised last time to tell me why they call you the Butcher of Barcelona.”

Ozzy laughed, “Because I used to cut the meat on a VR cook-what-you-shoot show. This was back when the game had full AI support, of course. It all tastes the same now. It was set in one of those weird fantasy worlds with lots of giant animals and monsters. The contestants had to hunt for herbs to harvest and animals to kill. They dragged in the stuff they’d hunted down, and I turned them into cutlets, steaks, roasts, and chops for the chefs to create masterpieces. I got damned handy with a cleaver, and the nickname stuck.”