I turned around and saw that my avatar was standing in front of a large C-shaped reception desk. The IOI corporate logo—giant, overlapping chrome letters twenty feet tall—floated above it. As I approached the desk, an impossibly beautiful blonde receptionist stood to greet me. “Mr. Parzival,” she said, bowing slightly. “Welcome to Innovative Online Industries! Just a moment. Mr. Sorrento is already on his way to greet you.”
I wasn’t sure how that could be, since I hadn’t warned them I was coming. While I waited, I tried to activate my avatar’s vidfeed recorder, but IOI had disabled recording in this chatlink session. They obviously didn’t want me to have video evidence of what was about to go down. So much for my plan to post the interview on YouTube.
Less than a minute later, another avatar appeared, through a set of automatic doors on the opposite side of the observation deck. He headed right for me, boots clicking on the polished floor. It was Sorrento. I recognized him because he wasn’t using a standard-issue Sixer avatar—one of the perks of his position. His avatar’s face matched the photos of him I’d seen online. Blond hair and brown eyes, a hawkish nose. He did wear the standard Sixer uniform—a navy blue bodysuit with gold epaulettes at the shoulders and a silver IOI logo on his right breast, with his employee number printed beneath it: 655321.
“At last!” he said as he walked up, grinning like a jackal. “The famous Parzival has graced us with his presence!” He extended a gloved right hand. “Nolan Sorrento, chief of operations. It’s an honor to meet you.”
“Yeah,” I said, doing my best to sound aloof. “Likewise, I guess.” Even as a chatlink projection, my avatar could still mime shaking his outstretched hand. Instead I just stared down at it as if he were offering me a dead rat. He dropped it after a few seconds, but his smile didn’t falter. It broadened.
“Please follow me.” He led me across the deck and back through the automatic doors, which slid open to reveal a large launching bay. It contained a single interplanetary shuttlecraft emblazoned with the IOI logo. Sorrento began to board it, but I halted at the foot of the ramp.
“Why bother bringing me here via a chatlink?” I asked, motioning to the bay around us. “Why not just give me your sales pitch in a chat room?”
“Please, indulge me,” he said. “This chatlink is part of our sales pitch. We want to give you the same experience you’d have if you came to visit our headquarters in person.”
Right, I thought. If I had come here in person, my avatar would be surrounded by thousands of Sixers and I’d be at your mercy.
I joined him inside the shuttle. The ramp retracted and we launched out of the bay. Through the ship’s wraparound windows I saw that we were leaving one of the Sixers’ orbital space stations. Looming directly ahead of us was the planet IOI-1, a massive chrome globe. It reminded me of the killer floating spheres in the Phantasm films. Gunters referred to IOI-1 as “the Sixer homeworld.” The company had constructed it shortly after the contest began, to serve as IOI’s online base of operations.
Our shuttle, which seemed to be flying on automatic pilot, quickly reached the planet and began to skim its mirrored surface. I stared out the window as we did one complete orbit. As far as I knew, no gunter had ever been given this kind of tour.
From pole to pole, IOI-1 was covered with armories, bunkers, warehouses, and vehicle hangars. I also saw airfields dotting the surface, where rows of gleaming gunships, spacecraft, and mechanized battle tanks stood waiting for action. Sorrento said nothing as we surveyed the Sixer armada. He just let me take it all in.
I’d seen screenshots of IOI-1’s surface before, but they’d been low-res and taken from high orbit, just beyond the planet’s impressive defense grid. The larger clans had been openly plotting to nuke the Sixer Operations Complex for several years now, but they’d never managed to get past the defense grid or reach the planet’s surface.
As we completed our orbit, the IOI Operations Complex swung into view ahead of us. It consisted of three mirror-surfaced towers—two rectangular skyscrapers on either side of a circular one. Seen from above, these three buildings formed the IOI logo.
The shuttle slowed and hovered above the O-shaped tower, then spiraled down to a small landing pad on the roof. “Impressive digs, wouldn’t you agree?” Sorrento said, finally breaking his silence as we touched down and the ramp lowered.
“Not bad.” I was proud of the calm in my voice. In truth, I was still reeling from everything I’d just seen. “This is an OASIS replica of the real IOI towers located in downtown Columbus, right?” I said.