Steven Glenn made his way through the throng of shoving, sweaty, and irritated bodies; equally sweaty and irritated. His three piece suit clung uncomfortably in this ungodly heat and the humidity made it damn near impossible to breathe. Whatever dunce decided that this conference needed to be held in Florida in the middle of August deserved to be shot. A large security guard watched carefully as laminated ID badges were flashed from the ends of lanyards. He funneled the mass of people through the glass doors and into the air conditioned lobby of the convention center. Mr. Glenn elbowed his way to the guard at the door and flashed his credentials with equal parts pride and annoyance. The burly man’s eyes slid from his photo, to the clipboard he held, back to his face and away again as he waved him through.

Blessedly cool air washed over him as he stepped inside. Mr. Glenn had begged and negotiated for months to be put out into the field and as his luck would have it, the biggest scandal to hit the pro gaming circuit this year had fallen into his lap. Insider Gaming was one of the biggest names in gaming news and prided itself on being the number one source for the latest on the pro gaming community. When the story broke about the user, touting himself as “MackBot”, achieving what developers adamantly asserted wasn’t possible, Glenn leaped at the opportunity to be the first to interview him and the developer. He had hacked the server of the most complex MMORPG in existence and created what was being hailed as a ’Master Bot’.

According to the source, the bot had gone far beyond simple farming and repetitive tasking. It was cleaning up and taking names. Now, the source had explained to him, hackers are constantly improving and “God-Mode” blips happen. But here was the rub, whenever these things occurred, they have been dealt with swiftly by the admins and banned. This one however, seems to have been let run rampant on the servers with no repercussions. This is where the scandal lay. Not with the gamer per se, (though he would become famous for it) but with Orpheus, the developer, for allowing it to continue seemingly unchecked. It had truly reached breaking point when the bot was allowed to compete in a recent online tournament for Gods of an Empire sponsored by Orpheus itself. Naturally, MackBot had decimated the competition. The perfect game play and wooden responses in chat had tipped off the other gamers and had no doubt caused the formal complaint against the developer. The conference today was to address the complaints. Naturally, all of the bottom feeders had showed up determined to sensationalize the would-be hacker. Amateurs, he thought disdainfully.

Though, if Glenn’s source was to be believed, MackBot already had sponsors lining up to slap their logos on his equipment. His focus was pulled out from the shuffle as the masses were herded across the lobby toward two more meat-heads in black polos. They ushered everyone into a darkened room, lit only by the lights centered at its front where a stage, complete with podium, was set up. Several rows of uncomfortable looking metal chairs spread from the stage to the far wall. This was going to be big if they were expecting such a turn out, Glenn thought. He shuffled in with the rest of them and as they spread out he got is first look at his ’peers’. Scruffy, unkempt, and unprofessional as far as the eye could see. Where was the decorum? Where were the suits, ties, hats, and well shined shoes? Glenn’s ideals of the days-gone-bye field reporter were quickly replaced with the current view of cargo shorts, flip flops, and rumpled t-shirts. He silently wrinkled his nose as he carefully removed his own hat and placed it in his briefcase. He took his recorder from his pocket and made sure the battery was at full charge and adjusted his ID badge, clipped smartly to his pressed jacket lapel. The man next to him, clad is the uniform of his peers, had the nerve to look at him as if he were odd. The room was filling quickly as photographers were adjusting their equipment in the front rows and reporters filed in behind. Glenn made sure to get the most prominent seat that he could, because he certainly wasn’t about to be outdone by the amateurs.

Thudding footsteps echoed through the room and the swarm of murmuring voices dampened as a tall man with dark hair graying at the temples in a well tailored suit (much to Glenn’s delight) strode to the podium. His lips moved as he meant to address the crowd but his voice was swallowed by the massive room. His eyebrows drew together and he made a motion with his hand that sent a sound tech scurrying to the stage to adjust the mic attached to the podium. The device made a piercing sound of protest as it crackled to life and Glenn cringed at the noise along with everyone else. The man cleared his throat and the sound carried loud and clear this time.

“Thank you,” he said to the tech as he bolted away from the stage and back to the safety of his sound boards in the shadows. Now, he turned his eyes to the crowd and said in clear voice,

“And thank you all for coming out this afternoon, we realize that this was short notice and appreciate your patience and cooperation. My name is Curtis Bynum, spokesman for the Electronic Sports League and we are here, along with representatives from Orpheus Gaming International to address concerns that have been voiced by recreational and professional players alike. Without further ado, please allow me to introduce Jason Canstopolis, Vice President of Operations at Orpheus.” He extended his arm in indication to a younger man that had stepped out onto the stage. He, too, Glenn noticed was dressed in a suit. He wore his hair slicked back from his face in a style that spoke of money but his smile was easy and seemed genuine enough as he greeted Bynum with a hearty handshake and took his place at the mic. He beamed at them all with an infectious energy that bordered on irritating.

“Welcome! I am glad that you all have taken the time out of your busy schedules to be here today.” He spoke in a voice that was deep and accented in a way that Glenn couldn’t place. His tanned face stretched into another wide grin.

“We, at Orpheus, are dedicated to creating the best possible experience for our clients. So, to get us all out of this blasted Florida heat, let us get straight to the heart of the matter. Recently, during our Gods of an Empire tournament, an event occurred that has called into question the security and integrity of our servers. It has been brought to our attention that a player, known as MackBot, played as close to the perfect game as it is possible to play. Allegations that a “Master Bot” has been created that could be injected directly into the servers have reached us. We are here today to lay those allegations to rest. And while the situations surrounding the tournament in question are unique, we can assure you all that no such breach has occurred and remains impossible,” he said, his eyes scanning the crowd as he did so. Glenn thought that there was something secretive about the smile that quirked up the corners of the young VP’s mouth. He let his words hang in a way that was an obvious silent invitation for questions from his audience. Glenn leaped at his chance and shot out of his seat with his hand in the air. Canstopolis acknowledged him and gestured for him to ask his question.

“Steven Glenn, Insider Gaming. So, you mean to tell us that the player in question is a human and not a bot? How is this possible?” he fired off, making sure that his voice rang out over his silent peers. Pens scribbled and recorders flashed as that secretive smile grew on the man’s face.

“That is exactly what I mean to tell you Mr. Glenn. At no time did a breach of our servers occur that would allow the player known as MackBot any undue advantage,” he replied. Glenn watched as the mysterious smile lingered. He wants us to pull the information out of him, he realized. Another cargo short-clad man sprang from his seat. Glenn’s focus was pulled to the left of the stage as a small commotion could be heard coming from off stage. An argument it sounded like. The other reporter had just been acknowledged by the speaker.

“Trent Snyder, VR Magazine. Would Orpheus really tell us if there were such a serious breach? I mean, wouldn’t it be more effective to dismiss the claims to discourage other players attempting such a stunt?” he asked. Canstopolis nodded thoughtfully.

“An excellent point, Mr. Snyder. And yes, it would be. Fortunately, that is not the case here,” he returned. He glanced quickly to the left of the stage where the unseen argument continued. Glenn was still standing and didn’t wait to be acknowledged as the question came tumbling from his mouth.

“And we are simply to take your word for it? Why has no one seen, interviewed, signed, or photographed such a talented player?” the words were out in a rush before he had time to pull them back. The look on the young man’s face clearly said that the questions were coming closer to where he wanted them to go.

“We would of course be willing to provide evidence to back up our claims, Mr. Glenn. And the answer to your other question is simple: online gaming provides a certain level of anonymity and this particular player appreciates this more than the attention that others prefer,” he replied. Closer, his expression read. Another man left his seat to ask a question and Glenn didn’t catch his name.

“And what sort of evidence could you provide that couldn’t be fabricated? You understand of course, that players will want to ensure their time, money, and effort are being spent on a game that offers fair game-play to everyone.” At this, Canstopolis spread his hands before him with a feigned expression of defeat and concession. But his eyes still crinkled with a barely concealed excitement for what he was about to reveal even if he pretended to be unwilling to do so.

“I think that is best explained by a friend of mine. Miss Talbott?” he then walked away from the podium and very nearly yanked a harassed-looking young woman onto the stage. She was a petite blonde woman, wearing a full skirted dress that appealed particularly to Glenn’s sense of vintage fashion. Her hair was pulled back in a precise knot at the top of her head and she padded across the stage with her palpable irritation growing with every step of her soft, flat leather shoes. She reached the mic with one last venomous glare to whomever was offstage where she had come from. Turning to face the crowd, Glenn could see the beginnings of crows feet crinkling at the corners of her eyes and the corners of her mouth turned down with her obvious displeasure at being here. She must be some sort of intern for the customer service division, he thought while pitying the girl. He was sure that she was taking the brunt of whatever mistake her supervisors had made that dealt with the backlash of events like these. The same reporter that asked the last question wasted no time in firing his next one at her directly.

“Miss, what is your position within the company and what evidence can you give us of Orpheus’s claim?”

Her eyes narrowed in a way that made Glenn rethink his pity for her and redirect it at the man now held under her scrutiny. Her stare was hard and laser focused on the reporter.

“I do not work for Orpheus...” she said. Her voice was low but steady as if she were unaccustomed to its use but completely sure of her subject. The reporter opened his mouth as if he were going to interrupt but another glare from the indomitable Miss Talbott silenced him.

“I do not work for Orpheus” she began again as soon as she was sure of the room’s silence, “and the only evidence I can provide is that I am MackBot.”

The room exploded.

Next Chapter: Chapter Two: Pitch