-25 MINUTES BEFORE THE LAUNCH OF VEIL ALPHA-

  Elena stood on shaky legs, hands pressed to either side of her keyboard. She stared at a series of equations and figures on the curved monitor taking up most of her desk, lips parted slightly. Sweat beaded across her forehead despite the cool temperature of the room.

  Her eyes darted across the screen again, willing the figures to change. They didn’t. Of course they didn’t. The solid, unwavering certainty of numbers was what had drawn her to this profession.

  She glanced down at the time. The Alpha was scheduled to begin within the next half hour. It wasn’t too late. She could stop it.

  Elena went to sit back down and nearly fell, catching herself and bringing her chair back to its correct position. She sat and typed in the command to bring up the launch system code base for Veil. Few others had access to the privileged information, but as the Director of Cognitive Transference, or the “Director of the Deep Dive,” as the team had taken to calling her, she had full access to the system.

  A message flashed across the screen in blocky red letters. A message she hadn’t seen in fifteen years working at the Habashi Corporation:

  ACCESS DENIED

  She closed the window, typed in her credentials once more, and received the same message. She blinked as she processed the information.

  They had locked her out of the system. Why? Did they already know what she had just discovered, nestled deep among server file configurations far from where it belonged? Buried. Had someone buried this information?

  Elena glanced at the clock once more. It had already been fifteen minutes since she had first discovered the file. She had searched for two days after noticing an inconsistency in the calculations provided by the team of data scientists. A minor disparity that had passed through ten tiers of careful scrutiny before coming across her desk for final approval. A single mismatched set of data among thousands, but that was who she was. Elena “Hawkeye” Thompson. Numbers spoke to her, and that set had whispered of lies.

  So she began digging.

  Two sleepless days of searching for the missing subsection of code fueled only by coffee and a desperate desire to scratch the itch in the back of her mind. Why were the numbers off? She had hoped it would be nothing more than a mismatched algorithm. Something like this was rare — the Habashi Corporation employed only the best software engineers and data analysts — but nothing was perfect.

  Then she had found it, and a wave of endorphins had flooded her sleep-deprived mind. She had shifted her glasses, rubbed at the sore spots where they’d sat for too long, and read the data, quickly identifying a bit of information that didn’t belong. It changed the whole dataset. She re-ran the calculation with the correct values and came to a conclusion that had nearly made her vomit, twisting her stomach in a tight knot of cold tension.

  And now she was locked out.

  Had whoever buried the data also flagged the file so they would be notified when it was accessed? It would have been an easy thing to do. Elena trembled with the implications, fighting down another wave of nausea. Someone must have hacked the system, removing her access so the launch would not be interrupted.

  She brought up the company’s messaging software to send Kazu Habashi a message, but he was logged off. Of course he was. He would have just finished with the press briefing about the Alpha, hyping the launch.

  Kazu was always honorable and empathetic; he would be willing to delay the launch to hear her out. He was the only person with higher system access than her own. She needed to get to him, warn him, before it was too late.

  But why? Why would anyone want this to happen? Such a disaster would ruin any business, even one as invincible as the Habashi Corporation.

  Elena stood, sending her chair crashing to the ground. She turned, forgetting to lock her computer for the first time in fifteen years, and ran from her office. She sprinted past her assistant, Allen, who glanced up in confusion as she raced by. Dashing down the hall, she passed a group of developers engaged in conversation near the coffee maker and tore past the elevators.

  There was no time to waste.

  Kazu’s boardroom was one story up, on the top floor of the Habashi Building. Elena hit the door to the stairs without slowing, shoving on the horizontal bar with both hands. The built-in shock absorbers kept the door from slamming open. She pushed with all of her might, fighting against the dampeners, until it finally opened just wide enough for her to slip through.

  She took the stairs two and three at a time, crashing into the door to the top floor and holding her badge over the reader affixed to the wall. For a moment, she felt a sense of dread as it took too long to unlock.

  Had they removed her card privileges too? The light finally flashed green and the door clicked open. She shoved against it again, opening it enough to slip through.

  The red plush carpet was soft under her thin socks. Elena looked down, eyes widening. She’s forgotten to put her loafers back on in her haste to make it here. She pushed the thought away. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was getting to Kazu in time to stop the Alpha from launching.

  She ran down the hall, proximity lights flicking on as she passed under them. The top floor of the building was infrequently used; it was mostly for hosting foreign dignitaries and top businessmen. She turned two corners, hurrying down the wide, empty halls.

  One more turn and she ran head-first into a wall of muscular flesh. Kojima, Kazu’s head of security, knelt to help her off the ground.

  “Elena, are you okay? Why are you running—” he looked her over, eyes first widening with concern then narrowing with suspicion as he took in her disheveled hair, missing shoes, and heaving breaths. He sniffed, crinkling his nose, but Elena didn’t notice.

  “I need to see Kazu right away. It’s an emergency.”

  “He is in a meeting and mustn’t be disturbed.”

  “Please, Kojima. It’s important. Ten thousand lives are at stake.” She enunciated each word carefully, trying to calm the dread that continued to rise like an inevitable tsunami.

  “Ten thousand? Do you mean Veil? The Alpha? Did something happen?”

  “There’s no time, please! I must speak with Kazu!” Her breath came in ragged gasps as she tried going around the large man, who held out an arm what was as hard as granite and stopped her.

  Kojima looked her up and down one final time and nodded. This was far from the first time Elena had pulled consecutive all-nighters since starting at the Habashi Corporation, but Kojima had never seen her this distressed before.

  “One moment.” He turned and placed his hand against a flat gray panel beside the door. The door clicked softly, and he pulled it open, stepping inside and closing it behind him. Elena caught sight of a small group of men standing around the large boardroom table talking quietly amongst themselves before the door closed.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  She shifted her weight from foot to foot, cringing at the protestations of her full bladder, but shoved the urge to the back of her mind. Ten thousand lives. It consumed her every thought. Ten thousand lives. Ten thousand lives. Time crept by at a crawl, each second felt like an hour. An eternity. She placed an ear against the cold metal door but could hear nothing. Of course the wealthiest family in the world would have a soundproofed boardroom..

  Elena groaned, trying the handle. It didn’t budge, issuing a single beep of warning. She pressed her hand against the sensor. It flashed red. She had never had access to this room, her position had no need to access this room, but she still had to try. Time, precious time, was ticking away.

  The door opened, and Kojima motioned for her to enter. She hurried into the room, looking around the group of unfamiliar faces until she spotted Kazu. He stood at the far end of the table, a stern expression on his face. His eyes were colder than she had ever seen.

  “Elena? Why are you here? Veil launches in minutes.” He paused, eyes moving from her hair, to her disheveled shirt, then down to her shoeless feet. “When is the last time you slept?”

  “We have to stop the launch!” She shouted it, pleading, her voice breaking with strain. “We have to stop it, now!”

  “Mr. Habashi, who is this woman? She appears quite mad,” asked a tall, thin man in a fine suit with a distinctive British accent.

  “Elena is the Director of Cognitive Transference. What is the matter, Elena?”

  “We have to stop the launch!” Elena struggled with herself for a moment, fighting to say something more, to elaborate further on the dangerous precipice they wavered upon. Her mind seemed to be stuck in a loop. “Ten thousand lives are at stake!”

  Kazu squinted at her.

  “She found it. I told you she would,” said a pale man with an American drawl. He leaned against the wall.

  “Found… you knew?” Elena looked from the pale man to Kazu, who still stood at the head of the long boardroom table. “You knew they would all die?”

  “That is where you are mistaken. They aren’t going to die.” Kazu spoke with gentle resolve. “They are going on a journey. A transmigration.”

  “I saw the numbers. I did the calculations. They will die when they enter those pods.”

  “Yes, their bodies wi—” Kazu was interrupted by another man, one Elena had not noticed in her frantic initial search for Kazu.

  “That is confidential,” the man cut in, holding up a hand to halt Kazu. He wore a military uniform that Elena wasn’t able to identify. Close-cropped gray hair topped a heavily scarred head. His accent was also American, though more clipped, biting off the words. “She must not be told.”

  “She already knows too much,” the other American chimed in. “I warned you about her. We should have cut access to the file days ago when she started digging.”

  “Elena has been with the Habashi Corporation for fifteen years. If anyone can be trusted with this information, it is her.”

  “That is the problem,” the military man said. “No one can be trusted with this information.”

  Kazu glowered at the man for a long moment, the two men locked in mutual glares. Elena’s heart felt like it would beat itself from her chest.

  “We don’t have time for this!” she shouted. “People are going to die! Ten thousand!”

  Kazu broke the glare, looking down. The man in the military attire smiled, nodding to the other American.

  “Ten thousand and one,” the American in the expensive suit said, a mocking edge to his voice. “So kind of you to volunteer.”

  “That is not going to hap—” Kazu was cut off once again by the military man.

  “It is. You should have kept a tighter leash; this is on you.” His cold gaze shifted from Kazu to Elena. “The project must continue. We must study the abnormality.”

  Kazu sighed and nodded to Kojima, who hesitated for a moment, a look of confusion on his face. “Take her four doors down. The floor model is functional. Initiate the process.”

  “Doesn’t she need to be cleansed first, like the other participants?” Kojima asked. Elena’s mind whirled. Was this really happening? Was she about to die? She turned and grabbed the door handle as Kazu replied. The handle didn’t budge.

  “That process isn’t necessary. It’s as she said; the bodies die. The minds, however—” he was interrupted by the same man yet again, but Kazu raised his voice and continued. “She will be gone soon anyways. There is no way back. It is a one-way trip. The secret is safe.

  "You will see, Elena. Your mind will go somewhere else. A new world, full of potential. Resources. We haven’t determined much beyond that; the technology is beyond our understanding.”

  “For now,” the British man chimed in.

  “For now,” Kazu nodded. “Veil is not a game. It is a… portal, of sorts. Those that enter are recreated, though we still have much to learn. But the journey is one way; it only takes information. Getting information back is nearly impossible.”

  “For now,” the British man added once again. Kuza ignored him this time, continuing his speech.

  “There is much to learn. I wish you wouldn’t have gone digging, Elena. Your expertise and experience would have been very beneficial to the study. But it is too soon for this information to leak. It could solve the resource problem. But more study is required.” He sighed, nodding to Kojima once again.

  “You’re killing them!” She screamed. “You’re killing me!”

  Kojima’s hands wrapped around her upper arms, twin grips like unyielding steel. He stepped to the door as Kazu walked around and placed his hand on the sensor, opening it.

  “You aren’t going to die. Your mind will live. We know that much. After this test, we will know much more. You are going on a journey, Elena. I wish you the best in your new life.”

  Elena struggled against Kojima, but his hands were immovable; it was like fighting a mountain. She screamed as he began walking her down the hall.

  “You’re killing me! You’re killing me!” she repeated the words, a mantra to fight back the tsunami of dread that threatened to drown her. Her mind reeled, unable to form a coherent thought, stuck in a loop.

  She was going to die. She thought of her cat, Cheshire. He had an automatic feeder and an automatic litter box, but they wouldn’t last forever. A few more days, at most. The realization shocked her mind out of the spiral, reorienting her thoughts. Her baby. Tears spilled over her eyes, and snot clogged her nose.

  “My baby, please, please no.” She sniffed and began sobbing. “My Cheshire kitty. Please.”

  Kojima placed a hand against the scanner for a new door. Elena pulled with all of her might, but Kojima’s other hand held her in place with ease. He looked ahead with cold eyes, but beneath the frost was pain.

  They had known each other. Not closely, but she had been an officer with the corporation for more than a decade. They were far from strangers.

  “Please, my Cheshire cat. Don’t let him starve.”

  Kojima pulled her into the small room. A pod sat in the middle. Thick bundles of wiring ran down from the ceiling and up from the floor into the egg-shaped device.

  “Please.” She whispered the word. Her throat burned from screaming. She was tired. There was a distinct coldness at her crotch; she had wet her pants at some point in the struggle. She didn’t care. “Please don’t let Cheshie die.”

  Kojima turned her, guiding Elena into the machine with a firm hand. She tried to resist. For the briefest moment, she managed to stop him from pushing her in.

  “I will see that Cheshire is taken care of. Stop resisting. This must happen.”

  She sighed, his words a calming balm to her tempestuous mind, allowing herself to be pushed into the machine. It had taken all of the physical might she could muster just to resist for a moment. Cheshire would be okay. Above all else, Kojima held to his own peculiar sense of honor and duty. She sat back, a great weight shifting from her shoulders. She wanted to thank Kojima. The words were on the tips of her tongue. There was a strong pinch as something was injected into her upper arm.

  “Tha—” Darkness. A brief moment of darkness, then she was standing on rolling hills that stretched as far as she could see in every direction. She felt the soft grass below her feet. Elena looked down at her hands and arms.They were a featureless white. Her body was a blank avatar, like a mannequin.

  A fresh wave of cold horror, stemming from a combination of recognition and disbelief, washed over Elena. This had been programmed into the game. The character generation sequence. A blank slate to begin in a new world. It was real. But how?

  Text appeared, floating in front of her.

  System booting…

  will be posting as many as I have edited, until it gets to a 20 chapter lead. Where? My , but of course!