Video Game Recruiting (Corporate Marines Book 1) (7 page)

I think they would have let Tina come and play once in awhile but they didn’t have a lot of money to spend on silly things like that. They had her playing musical instruments and studying all the time.

My parents chose a different path. Dad was gone a lot and Mom “managed the home fires,” like she used to say. As long as my grades were good, I got to come to the gaming centre regularly. She hadn’t liked the VR game until she really looked at it and did some online research. I worked out at home, ran, played tennis, and the gaming was allowed because of the physical fitness side and the hand-eye coordination that was improved on.

Tina’s mom helped out with the local community groups and at church. She was always helping someone somewhere and knew the rest of the local moms pretty well. Everyone worked together. My mom liked Tina and liked having a “smart young woman like that” studying with me. She said it kept me on my toes and I worked harder and did better.

The first time we all came to the centre, Tina sort of tagged along and then went in with us. One hundred dollars is not that much anymore, at least according to my parents and grandparents, compared to back in the day. Today, to play ten minutes of a VR game like that, it was cheap. To go once a week and then hang out after was okay. But that day, Tina grumbled and got angry when she found out that my mom had paid for her to get in. Tina made her own way in the world and didn’t like charity.

My mom looked at her and me. She asked us both to sit down in the living room for a chat. It was kind of scary to realize how short both of them were, even though Tina was just about as tall as my mom at age twelve. My mom pulled my reports up on the living room screen and I was embarrassed, but mom pointed out how my grades were higher when Tina and I worked together. When they dropped after Grandmamma died, Tina had helped me get through it and my grades came back up. The school had told my mom to drug me and expect a bad year.

It was a bad year, but I had recovered way faster than I should have, and my mom was not a big fan of drugging kids to make them feel better.

I could never forget my mom sitting there talking to Tina like she was an adult and waving a finger at her. “You helped Tim get through all that and more, and help keep his grades up. That gaming is actually better for you, and look how everyone is getting so much exercise now! It keeps you out of trouble, and really, I am not worried about treating you, so suck it up, Tina!”

Tina tried to grumble, but my mom is way too cool for that. Tina ended up giggling and saying thanks and that was it. We were a team. Jeff and Steve were old friends and we fit together just fine.

We just kept going. A few weeks ago, Tina’s father had a heart attack and was recovering, but didn’t have the best insurance package out there. The new nannite strengthening that was out was top-notch and did great things, but it was expensive. They couldn’t afford it, but were working through it.

Mom did everything she could to help Tina and her family out. Tina had an open invitation to sleep over at my place (in the guest bedroom, with my mom glaring at both of us as reminders of house rules). She had taken us up on that a few times, and we had the barbecue at their place two weeks ago, with everyone bringing stuff and making it a bigger party than ever.

Her dad was getting better, but it was hard on Tina and she was pushing herself to do well in school and everywhere else.

Years later I looked back at this and thought that my mom was also setting me and Tina up, as she really liked her and so did I. My last memory of Tina was of her walking away from me in the food court, and I couldn’t stop checking her out. She never noticed ‘cause she was glaring at her phone and I wondered who had sent her a message that was that much of a problem.

T
he next day I had to go visit my grampa with Dad. He was grumpy and always had been. When Grandmamma passed away, he had gotten grumpier and Dad never really liked going to visit him because, as he said, “Grampa is stuck in the past and what went wrong for him. He needs to look forward, but it’s hard for his generation to do that.”

When I would go there, it was usually with Mom. I was always nervous because I always got grilled on what I had done and was going to do with myself in the future.

This time Dad was going in on one of those rare days off. Mom was organizing a charity drive to work on improving the Projects, and so here I was.

We drove there in silence, with Dad listening to the latest stock reports and reviewing what was going on in the markets. He was the head of the state’s training department and kept telling me how important it was to stay current. “If we fail, then the Corporation fails, which means that people will lose jobs. If I do my job well, then I maintain the jobs. And if I do great? Then more jobs are created.”

I never faulted him for working so much. It was why we had what we did and Mom could stay home and we could have the great parties in our area.

I just checked out the scenery as we drove along. There were beautiful trees and small parks all over. We were heading into the downtown core, and we went from detached houses to townhouses and lots of apartment buildings. It was a smooth ride with not much traffic on a Thursday afternoon. Having four lanes going right through the city was the best thing that city planning had ever done.

We didn’t go fast, but it was a constant speed, and with mostly electric cars there was not much noise or pollution. Heck, when they built the underground rapid transit lines for bulk transport, that was just top-notch and traffic was decreased a lot.

But we lived in a state that had more upgrades than elsewhere. I had seen pictures of Europe, Africa and the Middle East, where vehicles were still run on fossil fuels or mixes. All the cities were electric, but the world was a big place.

It was kinda cool when we took the environmental classes in education. Our carbon footprint had decreased over the last thirty years. Within a hundred, there would only be fuel-burning engines for practice or in museums.

It was cool to think that way. But I really hoped that in a hundred years I wouldn’t be in a retirement home like Grampa. He was so grumpy and down all the time. I didn’t get it.

I saw the latest ads for newsfeeds on the billboards as we drove along. The pictures moved and danced along, pushing whatever marketing people wanted.

When we pulled up to the nursing home, Dad looked at me. “Timothy, would you be okay going to the convenience store and getting us both some drinks? I want to talk to Grampa quickly. He isn’t going to want to see me for long as I’m too much of a bureaucrat for him to handle.” Dad said it with a smile, but I knew it hurt him a bit that his dad wasn’t proud of him.

“Yeah, sure, Dad. You want the standard Cola that Mom doesn’t want you drinking?”

He smiled, which was rare; it made him look young. “You got it, Tim!” He handed me a fifty and I headed for the convenience store.

I walked into the store and headed to the fridges. I grabbed Dad’s favourite and an energy drink for myself. Then I snagged a medium-sized bag of the snacks that Mom rolled her eyes at. Dad loved those…

I hopped in line to pay and watched the screen while I waited. It was one of the shows on the net and they were comparing the latest action movies to old footage on how the Corporate Marines worked. The only problem was, the bad guys in the movies were robots so they didn’t work like the footage showed, which was unrealistic. They should move faster and with better tracking after so many years of potential development. Then, the Marine armour’s movement was based on the media release from thirty years ago.

I had seen the movie; it was awesome and all the good guys die, but they save the world in doing so.

I came up to the counter and scanned everything through. I paid the eighteen dollars and headed back, slowly sipping at my drink.

I went inside the home and headed upstairs to the floor that Grampa was on, then grabbed a seat in the sunroom that they had set up in the middle of the building.

I never got it. The nursing home is BIG. It is set up as an apartment building with thirty stories, with a long central hallway and small rooms for the inmates (that’s what Grampa calls them), off of that. There are four elevators available just off the centre of the building. On every floor there is a large sun room in the center that sticks out and gives an awesome view. I have almost never seen more than a few people in any of them and most of the people just don’t use them.

I asked the staff and they told me that over half the residents stay in their rooms not even bothering to come down for meals. I mean, they have special seats with robot brains that can move them around and they can do lots of stuff here.

Most just don’t, though.

I keep getting told that this is how this generation is. I never understood it and I never want to. Get up and go do something, even if it’s only checking out the skyline from the twenty-third floor of the building. It’s way better to do that than just sit in your room watching news all day with the blinds closed, grumbling.

Grampa always got me down, but he was family and it was important to try to make his days a bit brighter.

I saw Dad come out of the room and head toward the elevator. I waved so he saw me. He walked up; I handed him the bag and the change and raised an eyebrow. Mom did that when she was curious but didn’t want to ask.

He gave me a hug, which was bizarre. “Tim, I understand if you only want to go in for a minute. Grampa is having a grumpy day. I can wait here for you?”

I didn’t get much time like this with my Dad. I gave him a hug back because I knew he wanted one and I gave him the out he needed. “Naw, you go downstairs, Dad. You can enjoy your drink and some snacks and focus on the business stuff. I’ll go visit with Grampa and let him grumble and get it out of his system. You know the staff say he is always a bit better for a few days after he vents, right?”

We were walking toward the elevator now and Dad hit the button.

He looked surprised. “Your mom had said that but I never really believed it. Okay big guy, you go and deal. I’ll be downstairs, and will try not to eat all the junk food.”

The door slid open and he entered holding the bag.

I eyed him. “Really? Last time we had a bag, I had to lick the crumbs out.”

As the doors closed, he was smiling. “You can trust me!”

The doors clicked shut and I headed for Grampa’s room. I knew Dad was going to eat everything. I should have kept the change so I could get a bigger bag after this meeting.

I was going to need it if Grampa was grumpy.

I walked down the hall, with its cheerful and sunny flooring and walls. The place was super clean and tidy and I knew they had automated cleaning robots that zoomed up and down the hall in the middle of the night freshening the air, but it still felt depressing.

I walked up to the door and knocked.

“Come in! I was expecting you and I ain’t deaf!”

I opened the door and there was Grampa Labaron sitting in his wheelchair with, of course, the blinds closed and the lights on full.

“Hi, Grampa! How are you doing? And why are you sitting in the dark?”

I walked over to give him a hug and he gave me a whack on the back.

“Well, I’m old and waiting to die is what I’m doing. I am not sitting in the dark. I have the lights on and it is as bright as day. Now, your dad was just in here trying to be all super “everything is wonderful”; I wonder how my son could be so blind to the situation that the world is in today? What do you think, Timmy boy?”

I stood up and moved to the window and opened the blinds. The view is awesome. The windows start at a foot off the floor and you can see off into the distance. I saw it at night once, when the city was lit up like a Christmas tree. It was so beautiful. I wonder why Grampa—

The chair zipped by me and Grampa flipped the automatic switch. The blinds closed again and I was stuck staring at the little lights coming through the slats.

“Timmy, I don’t like those blinds open. I don’t need people staring in at me like I’m in some sort of fishbowl and watching me when I go into the bathroom.”

I turned and looked; the bathroom entrance was at a ninety-degree angle off the little entry hall. No one could see in.

I mentally shrugged; it was Grampa.

I grabbed a seat on the small couch that he never used. “Well, the windows are tinted, Grampa, and no one can see in and the view is great. As for everything else, life is good. I am doing good at school, with some okay grades. Math is still hard for me. Mom and Dad are doing well and we just had that street party a few weeks ago. There are lots of good times going on. The newest version of Marines HO! That Virtual Reality game that everyone plays is pretty good too. You know I have nothing to complain about. Dad said that the economy is growing and that they are really trying to close the North Am Projects in a few years.”

I stopped and thought about the news media covering who still lived there. It would be good when they were finally torn down and the criminals were cleared out.

He snorted at me and the look on his face was almost disgust. “So your parents brainwashed you, huh? You’re growing up to be as shallow as they are. I knew that when your dad married your mom there was going to be trouble. My wife was okay with her but she was concerned as well, I could tell! Married to her for forty-five years, I knew how she thought. Well, your mom did whatever she had to, to land your dad, and now she’s turning your head!”

I felt a flush of anger growing and spreading throughout my body. I looked at Grampa in shock.

He just kept going. “Yup, if you do well at school, hopefully you can get yourself a good enough job so that you can put aside enough resources for when it gets bad. I don’t know what they are teaching you at school with all that implant nonsense going on. Computers were good enough when I was growing up. Heck, my dad—your great-grandpa—didn’t even have electricity or regular meals because of that damn alien invasion. You have to pull the cover off of your eyes, boy. Everything you love is meaningless when they come back. Your stupid mother can’t see that; all she worries about is block parties.”

He was glaring at me and almost spitting. “You watch, those poor wretches that are living in the Projects? They are going to be better off than we are when the whole system comes crashing down! That’s when the Corporation —all hail the mighty Glentol Corporation!—will be putting most of us into virtual reality games, because it’s better than the real world! I can only hope and pray that the Isolationist movement wins and we finally start fortifying Earth in preparation for when the next invasion comes, instead of wasting our resources!”

He was red-faced and furious. He had leveraged himself up and out of his chair and was waving his arms around.

I could barely hear him as he kept on going on and on. I didn’t know why he was spewing forth such hatred and rage.

But Grampa, no matter how much he ranted, was still old. Heck, he was in his eighties. He ran out of energy and then sat down. He seemed to deflate then and go all quiet and pale.

He was slumped in his chair with his head down. I was staring at his short brush cut. I could hear him panting now.

I just looked at him. Part of me wanted to get up and yell at him and carry on like he had. But I stopped myself and kept breathing like my martial arts instructors had taught me.

The rage and anger slowly faded away until I felt more in control. I was still angry, but I could control it.

It didn’t make any sense to hurt him. He was my grampa; he was old, tired, his wife was gone, and he was left to sit in this great, nice building along with all the other elderly while their kids visited once every few weeks, if ever.

It wasn’t his fault he thought this way.

I knew that wasn’t totally true. Most people from his generation had ended up like this, sorta. That’s what my social teachers said. An entire generation scarred by being born and growing up after the invasion. All the death and struggle had scarred them. One of the things that had changed was that “political correctness” was gone. Things that were bad for you were cool again, like smoking and drinking. Drug use? As long as it did not interfere with how you worked, it was ignored in the younger generation. This was the lashback against the suffering. Of course, cigars and cigarettes had been modified so that the risk of cancer or other sicknesses had been decreased a lot. Medical knowledge was also better, so if you did get sick, you could be cured. What a great time to live in, unless we were invaded again… The generation following my grandparents was different. People like my parents wanted to work hard but still play. I had heard about swingers and extreme sports. I know they were talking about my generation as the generation that only wanted to play. For us there were “no rules.” That was a load of crap, though.

He had always been like this to some extent. But it was worse now that he was older.

I just sat there and told myself he was old and maybe suffering from dementia or some other old-person sickness. I kept telling myself that, but I was still in shock, angry, and felt sick that he could say those things.

He sat there in his chair breathing heavily as he tried to catch his breath. I hadn’t seen him this active since I was a small kid and he used to take me to a park and chase me on the climbers. A small part of me wondered if he was going to die, he looked so bad.

He lifted his head and looked at me. It struck me how sad and lost he looked.

He spoke quietly, coughing a bit once in a while. “I don’t remember much about the first years of my life. I was born after the invasion. But I do remember being hungry and times being bad. People not wanting to live in the cities or near the coast anymore. I remember growing up and then joining the army. There was no more political correctness and the military was huge but poorly equipped. But if they came back, we were going to fight. Then they didn’t come back, and it was like so many people just forgot that we were invaded or that hundreds of millions of people died.”