Buzzworm (A Technology Thriller): Computer virus or serial killer? by Theo Cage
Authors: Theo Cage
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Before dawn, he carefully filled a tall mug with his special white powder, pure anhydrous caffeine he purchased in bulk, his first dose of the day the equivalent of ten cups of coffee. He mixed the snowy powder with fruit juice and greedily downed the concoction.
Almost immediately, he felt the energy surge through him like he had plugged himself into a high voltage cable. His vision became clearer, his mind racing ahead of him with delicious new ideas of revenge and retribution. He remembered then how his special mission had begun many years before.
Her name was Valkerie. She was tall, muscular, as perfect as possible in that post-apocalyptic world she lived in, her bare arms tattooed with the scars of a dozen battles. He had stared across at her, his hand on the hilt of his sword. They were finally alone on some nameless carbonized battlefield, a village off in the distance. He walked up to her, the sunset reflecting off his armor. He imagined he looked like a golden god. How beautiful he was she must be thinking.
He had typed, “Our children will rule this world.
Valkerie laughed then. She answered almost immediately, her gothic script scrolling along the bottom of his screen. “Not in this universe. Or any other.”
Then she drew her arms up, a sign she was about to cast a spell on him. Clearly she was not interested in sharing genes with this stranger. He had lured her away from the village ruins with a fantastic story about a quest for jewels. She had fallen for his lie. They were alone now, no witnesses. That was good. He could do what he wanted with her. He moved swiftly with the two-handed melee sword, his impossibly powerful body a blur on the screen. The big blade slashed across her midsection. She shattered like a crystal and her fading scream filled his ear buds.
Following her death, he had sat back in his office chair, looking disappointed. He had hoped against all odds that she would accept his offer. Sex between avatars was rare on Ganymede, the war planet on the Universe Two online gaming system, and that’s why it would have scored him massive points. He had hacked Universe Two and given himself superhuman powers and wealth so that he was virtually unbeatable in battle. But he couldn’t hack the other players. Valkerie, whoever she was, would re-appear on some other world after her virtual death, reborn as usual. She would be angry with him, vowing revenge if they ever met again, and still flashing those giant tits she had purposefully selected from the games character-building pull-down menu.
As a long time player of online fantasy games, Buzzworm had learned that this seduction of other virtual players was difficult and time-consuming. No different than the same game played out on the streets and bars of Washington D.C. every night. But here, in virtual reality, he had power and wealth and impossible good looks. In the real world, he had none of these. This thought made him feel helpless and alone.
After signing off the game on his computer, he looked out through the frosted glass window of his small office. He could see the blurry shapes of other CIA staff moving past his private cave. How appropriate. Fuzzy people uncertain about their goals. Unlike him. His mission was as focused as a laser beam.
The man who called himself Buzzworm always had a file open on his desk, ready in the event someone knocked on his door. That was as rare an event in those early days as it was now. He was as forgotten in the intelligence complex as honor and duty. He was like a salaried ghost.
Buzzworm knew he could have submersed himself into the fantasy world of Universe Two every day, all day, if he wished. No one would know. No one expected any output from him anymore. He used to be part of a cyber terrorism team that prowled around inside the computer guts of Al Qaeda and Hezbollah. They called him a penetration expert, and he was good at his job. But he never got along with the rest of his team.
Before dawn, he carefully filled a tall mug with his special white powder, pure anhydrous caffeine he purchased in bulk, his first dose of the day the equivalent of ten cups of coffee. He mixed the snowy powder with fruit juice and greedily downed the concoction.
Almost immediately, he felt the energy surge through him like he had plugged himself into a high voltage cable. His vision became clearer, his mind racing ahead of him with delicious new ideas of revenge and retribution. He remembered then how his special mission had begun many years before.
Her name was Valkerie. She was tall, muscular, as perfect as possible in that post-apocalyptic world she lived in, her bare arms tattooed with the scars of a dozen battles. He had stared across at her, his hand on the hilt of his sword. They were finally alone on some nameless carbonized battlefield, a village off in the distance. He walked up to her, the sunset reflecting off his armor. He imagined he looked like a golden god. How beautiful he was she must be thinking.
He had typed, “Our children will rule this world.
Valkerie laughed then. She answered almost immediately, her gothic script scrolling along the bottom of his screen. “Not in this universe. Or any other.”
Then she drew her arms up, a sign she was about to cast a spell on him. Clearly she was not interested in sharing genes with this stranger. He had lured her away from the village ruins with a fantastic story about a quest for jewels. She had fallen for his lie. They were alone now, no witnesses. That was good. He could do what he wanted with her. He moved swiftly with the two-handed melee sword, his impossibly powerful body a blur on the screen. The big blade slashed across her midsection. She shattered like a crystal and her fading scream filled his ear buds.
Following her death, he had sat back in his office chair, looking disappointed. He had hoped against all odds that she would accept his offer. Sex between avatars was rare on Ganymede, the war planet on the Universe Two online gaming system, and that’s why it would have scored him massive points. He had hacked Universe Two and given himself superhuman powers and wealth so that he was virtually unbeatable in battle. But he couldn’t hack the other players. Valkerie, whoever she was, would re-appear on some other world after her virtual death, reborn as usual. She would be angry with him, vowing revenge if they ever met again, and still flashing those giant tits she had purposefully selected from the games character-building pull-down menu.
As a long time player of online fantasy games, Buzzworm had learned that this seduction of other virtual players was difficult and time-consuming. No different than the same game played out on the streets and bars of Washington D.C. every night. But here, in virtual reality, he had power and wealth and impossible good looks. In the real world, he had none of these. This thought made him feel helpless and alone.
After signing off the game on his computer, he looked out through the frosted glass window of his small office. He could see the blurry shapes of other CIA staff moving past his private cave. How appropriate. Fuzzy people uncertain about their goals. Unlike him. His mission was as focused as a laser beam.
The man who called himself Buzzworm always had a file open on his desk, ready in the event someone knocked on his door. That was as rare an event in those early days as it was now. He was as forgotten in the intelligence complex as honor and duty. He was like a salaried ghost.
Buzzworm knew he could have submersed himself into the fantasy world of Universe Two every day, all day, if he wished. No one would know. No one expected any output from him anymore. He used to be part of a cyber terrorism team that prowled around inside the computer guts of Al Qaeda and Hezbollah. They called him a penetration expert, and he was good at his job. But he never got along with the rest of his team.