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VRMMO: Alien Hijack

Chapter 3 / 123

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Chapter 3 of 123

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Chapter 3: The Price of Admission

VRMMO: Alien Hijack

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The New Geneva Central Evaluation Complex had been built to accommodate nearly half a million candidates every day.

Even so, the line outside its eastern entrance stretched across three public squares and continued beneath an elevated transportation platform.

Adrian Vale had been standing in it for forty minutes.Full novel: VRMMO: Alien Hijack — read the rest free on N​o⁠v​e⁠l​C⁠o​d⁠e​x⁠.​o⁠r​g⁠

His examination was scheduled to begin at eight, and the registration system had instructed him to arrive ninety minutes early.

Apparently, that instruction had been sent to everyone else as well.

He checked his terminal.

COMPETITIVE SELECTION — STAGE IV

PARTICIPANTS: 120

ADVANCEMENT POSITIONS: 10

ESTIMATED DURATION: 6 HOURS

There was no information about the examination itself.

Adrian had spent most of the previous evening looking through public records of earlier selection rounds.

The Council had used hundreds of different assessment formats over the years, ranging from technical examinations to complex simulations involving entire artificial communities.

Some were straightforward competitions.

Others placed candidates in situations where the apparent objective had little to do with the actual evaluation.

The only consistent feature was that the Council rarely explained the rules completely.

A man behind Adrian was arguing with someone over his terminal.

“I’m telling you, they changed the allocation yesterday.

My brother’s in biomedical engineering, and his regional group lost another four hundred positions.”

“Your brother’s been saying that for months.”

“Because they keep changing it.”

Adrian stopped listening.

He had heard variations of the same conversation almost every day.

The Council’s professional allocations were constantly revised as the Exodus Project approached completion.

Some fields gained positions while others lost them, depending on the projected requirements of the Haven colony.

For candidates, the changes could be devastating.

Someone might spend years preparing for a particular specialization, only to discover that the number of available positions had been reduced by half.

There was no practical way to object.

The Council could always point toward its population models and argue that the colony’s needs had changed.

Adrian understood the necessity of planning a balanced population.

He was less convinced that the planning models were accurate enough to justify the confidence placed in them.

The line moved forward.

He followed.

Inside the complex, candidates were directed into a large waiting hall divided into twelve sections.

Each section contained ten seats.

Adrian located his assigned position and sat down.

The room was quieter than he expected.

Most candidates were studying their terminals or watching the central display, which showed a rotating series of administrative announcements.

A few were talking in small groups.

He recognized several faces from the public candidate roster.

Mira Chen was sitting near the far wall, speaking with a woman Adrian didn’t know.

When she noticed him, she excused herself and approached.

“I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.”

“The registration line was ridiculous.

I got here before seven.”

“Same.

They opened another checkpoint about twenty minutes ago, so the last people got through faster than everyone who arrived early.”

“That sounds about right.”

Mira sat in the empty chair beside him.

“Have you heard anything about today’s format?”

“Nothing reliable.

I found some older assessments that used negotiation games, but they change them so often that I doubt it’ll help.”

“I talked to someone who took this stage last month.

Their group was given a simulated settlement and had to distribute limited resources between different departments.”

“How’d they do?”

“She passed.

Said the biggest problem wasn’t the resources.

It was that everyone kept trying to prove they should be in charge.”

Adrian could imagine that.

“Did they know how the scores were calculated?”

“Not until afterward.

Apparently, the people who took leadership positions didn’t always get the highest marks.”

“That’s useful to know.”

“Maybe.

Assuming we get anything similar.”

They sat quietly for a while.

Adrian looked around the room.

The candidates were mostly in their twenties and thirties, although several appeared older.

All had passed multiple qualification stages and achieved exceptional results within their professional categories.

He recognized Lucian Voss near the front.

Lucian was speaking with two other candidates, one of whom wore the uniform of the Elysium Advanced Research Institute.

Adrian had read several of Lucian’s publications during the previous week.

They were excellent.

His research focused on neural-interface architecture and distributed computational systems, both of which were directly relevant to the Exodus Project.

His family history was more controversial.

Lucian was a descendant of Cassian Voss, one of the principal architects of the Continuity Initiative, the organization that had attempted to establish permanent control over passengers’ consciousness during the interstellar journey.

Adrian wasn’t particularly interested in judging someone according to their grandfather’s political beliefs.

Still, he wondered whether Lucian had inherited any of the family’s connections.

Mira followed his gaze.

“That’s Voss.”

“I know.”

“He’s ranked eleventh globally.”

“I read his work.”

“Good?”

“Very.

Some of his older models have problems with synchronization under delayed communication, but the newer papers address most of them.”

Mira looked at him.

“You really did read them.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“I assumed you were just looking through the rankings.”

“I was.

Then I got interested in the research.”

She smiled faintly.

“Fair enough.”

Before they could continue, the lights dimmed.

A woman appeared on the central display.

“Good morning.

I’m Administrator Selene Marr.

You have been assigned to Competitive Selection Group 47-C.”

The room fell silent.

“Today’s examination will consist of three independent assessments.

Your performance will determine whether you advance to the next qualification stage.”

A diagram appeared behind her.

ASSESSMENT ONE: THE AUCTION

ASSESSMENT TWO: THE RECORD

ASSESSMENT THREE: THE EXCHANGE

Adrian studied the titles.

They revealed almost nothing.

“Each assessment measures different aspects of judgment, adaptability, and decision-making.

You will receive the relevant instructions before each stage.”

Marr paused.

“Please proceed to your assigned simulation stations.”

Adrian opened his eyes in a brightly lit room containing twelve chairs arranged around a long table.

Eleven other candidates appeared around him.

Mira was seated opposite.

Lucian stood near the end of the table, examining a display embedded in the wall.

Adrian looked down at his wrist.

A metallic bracelet displayed his identification number.

ADRIAN VALE — 08421

STARTING BALANCE: 1,000

A second display appeared above the table.

ASSESSMENT ONE: THE AUCTION

PARTICIPANTS: 12

DURATION: 45 MINUTES

OBJECTIVE: MAXIMIZE YOUR FINAL ASSET VALUE

The overhead voice began explaining the rules.

Each candidate had received one thousand credits.

During the assessment, the system would auction a series of assets.

Some would generate income, others would have strategic value, and several would possess characteristics that would not be revealed until later.

Candidates could bid individually or form agreements with other participants.

All transactions were final.

At the end of the assessment, the system would calculate the value of each candidate’s remaining credits and acquired assets.

Adrian examined the table.

A holographic display showed the first item.

ASSET 1: ENERGY PRODUCTION FACILITY

ESTIMATED RETURN: 300–600 CREDITS

OPERATING COST: 100 CREDITS

STARTING BID: 200 CREDITS

A candidate near the end of the table immediately raised his hand.

“Two hundred.”

Another offered two-fifty.

The bidding continued.

Adrian remained silent.

He wanted to understand how the auction worked before committing his credits.

The estimated return was broad enough to make the asset’s value uncertain.

Depending on the final payout, it could be extremely profitable or barely worth purchasing.

He also suspected that later assets would interact with earlier ones.

An energy facility might become more valuable if paired with a manufacturing plant.

Or less valuable if the system introduced a shortage of maintenance resources.

The bidding reached four hundred.

Then four-fifty.

Finally, a candidate purchased the facility for five hundred and twenty credits.

Adrian thought the price was too high.

But he couldn’t be certain.

The next asset appeared.

ASSET 2: INDUSTRIAL WATER PROCESSOR

ESTIMATED RETURN: 200–500 CREDITS

OPERATING COST: 50 CREDITS

STARTING BID: 150 CREDITS

This time, Adrian participated.

He bid two hundred.

Another candidate offered two-fifty.

Adrian increased to two-eighty.

The bidding stopped.

ASSET ACQUIRED

PURCHASE PRICE: 280

REMAINING BALANCE: 720

He examined the processor’s specifications.

Its output depended upon available energy.

That confirmed his suspicion.

The assets were interconnected.

The candidate who had purchased the energy facility might possess an advantage.

Unless the system allowed energy to be purchased from external sources.

Adrian opened the asset management interface.

A small note appeared.

ENERGY REQUIREMENT: 40 UNITS

CURRENT ENERGY SUPPLY: 0

He frowned.

No energy.

He would need to acquire it somehow.

The next asset appeared.

ASSET 3: ENERGY STORAGE NETWORK

CAPACITY: 100 UNITS

STARTING BID: 100 CREDITS

Several candidates immediately began bidding.

Adrian joined them.

The price rose quickly.

Two hundred.

Three hundred.

Four hundred.

Adrian stopped.

At that price, the storage network was becoming too expensive.

Lucian purchased it for four hundred and thirty credits.

Adrian looked toward him.

Lucian was studying his asset interface, apparently unconcerned.

The fourth item appeared.

ASSET 4: ENERGY DISTRIBUTION CONTRACT

SUPPLY: 200 UNITS

DURATION: ENTIRE ASSESSMENT

STARTING BID: 100 CREDITS

Adrian immediately understood.

The distribution contract was considerably more valuable than the storage network.

It provided actual energy rather than merely storing it.

He bid three hundred.

Another candidate offered three-fifty.

Adrian increased to four hundred.

The bidding continued.

Eventually, he purchased the contract for five hundred credits.

His remaining balance fell to two hundred and twenty.

He now possessed a water processor and enough energy to operate it.

But he had spent most of his credits.

The other candidates continued bidding.

Some acquired manufacturing facilities.

Others purchased transportation contracts, resource reserves, or specialized equipment.

Mira bought an agricultural production unit and a transportation license.

Lucian acquired several smaller assets rather than concentrating his credits on one major purchase.

Adrian watched the market develop.

The system was creating an economy.

And the candidates were gradually becoming dependent upon one another.

Twenty minutes into the assessment, the auction paused.

A new message appeared.

MARKET PHASE TWO

PRIVATE TRANSACTIONS ENABLED

ASSET INTERACTIONS ACTIVE

Adrian opened his interface.

His water processor had begun generating income.

CURRENT ASSET VALUE: 420

PROJECTED FINAL VALUE: 610

Not bad.

But the projection assumed continued energy supply and stable market conditions.

He looked toward the other candidates.

Several were already negotiating trades.

A man who had purchased two manufacturing facilities was offering credits in exchange for transportation access.

Another candidate was attempting to purchase energy from the owner of the production facility.

Mira approached Adrian.

“Do you have spare energy?”

“Some.

Why?”

“My agricultural unit needs thirty units to operate at full capacity.”

Adrian checked his contract.

He had two hundred units.

His water processor required forty.

That left one hundred and sixty.

“I can sell you thirty.”

“How much?”

He considered the price.

Energy was becoming increasingly valuable, but he didn’t want to exploit her unnecessarily.

“Seventy-five credits.”

Mira examined her interface.

“That’s reasonable.

I’ll take it.”

They completed the transaction.

Adrian’s balance increased.

Mira returned to her seat.

A few minutes later, another candidate approached.

He needed fifty units of energy.

Adrian offered them for one hundred and fifty credits.

The man accepted.

By the end of the second phase, Adrian had recovered much of his initial expenditure.

His assets were generating income, and his remaining energy supply was sufficient to maintain operations.

He felt reasonably confident.

Then the system announced the final phase.

MARKET PHASE THREE

ENVIRONMENTAL EVENT: REGIONAL DROUGHT

WATER DEMAND INCREASED BY 300%

AGRICULTURAL PRODUCTION REDUCED BY 40%

Adrian stared at the display.

His water processor’s projected value increased immediately.

PROJECTED FINAL VALUE: 1,240

He smiled.

That was fortunate.

Mira’s agricultural unit, however, had lost much of its projected value.

She examined her interface with a frown.

Several candidates began offering to purchase water from Adrian.

He had become one of the few participants capable of supplying it.

The prices rose rapidly.

A candidate offered two hundred credits for a portion of his output.

Another offered three hundred.

Adrian considered the offers.

Then he noticed a new condition.

WATER PROCESSING EFFICIENCY REDUCED BY INSUFFICIENT MAINTENANCE

His processor required specialized maintenance equipment.

He didn’t possess any.

Lucian did.

Adrian looked toward him.

Lucian was already watching.

A moment later, he approached.

“I have a maintenance contract you might need.”

Adrian nodded.

“I noticed.”

“It’ll restore your processor’s efficiency.”

“How much?”

“Two hundred credits.”

Adrian considered the offer.

That was expensive.

But without maintenance, his processor’s output would decline enough to cost him considerably more.

“One-fifty.”

Lucian shook his head.

“I paid one-eighty for the contract.”

“Then you overpaid.”

“Possibly.

But you still need it.”

Adrian examined his interface.

Lucian was right.

He could refuse the offer, but doing so would reduce his final asset value.

“One-eighty,” Adrian said.

“You recover your cost.”

Lucian considered it.

Then nodded.

“Agreed.”

They completed the transaction.

Adrian’s processor returned to full efficiency.

The remaining minutes passed quickly.

When the assessment ended, the system calculated the final values.

Adrian finished with 2,180 credits.

Mira had 1,940.

Lucian had 2,260.

Several other candidates had performed well, although two had lost nearly all their starting credits through poor investments.

The overhead voice announced that the results would contribute to their final evaluations.

No one had been eliminated.

Adrian found that reassuring.

The first game had been difficult, but its rules were understandable.

Success depended upon interpreting incomplete information, managing resources, and negotiating with other candidates.

It was competitive without being entirely arbitrary.

He hoped the remaining assessments would be similar.

The second examination began after a short break.

This time, Adrian found himself inside a small office.

A desk stood against one wall.

A large display occupied another.

There were no other candidates.

ASSESSMENT TWO: THE RECORD

DURATION: 60 MINUTES

OBJECTIVE: IDENTIFY THE RESPONSIBLE PARTY

The system presented a simulated investigation.

A research facility had experienced a major security breach.

Confidential technical data had been stolen, and the Council wanted to identify the individual responsible.

Five employees were considered suspects.

Each had access to different sections of the facility.

Each possessed a possible motive.

And each had provided a statement.

Adrian was given access to security records, communication logs, financial transactions, and a limited number of interview opportunities.

He began examining the evidence.

The first suspect was a senior researcher who had recently been denied promotion.

The second was a systems engineer with significant personal debts.

The third was an administrative employee who had accessed restricted records shortly before the breach.

The fourth was a security technician responsible for maintaining the facility’s access controls.

The fifth was a junior researcher whose work had been repeatedly rejected by the institution’s review board.

At first, the evidence pointed toward the systems engineer.

Several unusual financial transactions had occurred shortly before the breach, and the engineer had accessed a restricted laboratory during the relevant period.

Adrian examined the records.

The financial transactions were suspicious.

But the access logs were inconsistent.

The engineer had entered the laboratory at 18:42.

The breach occurred at 19:16.

The laboratory’s security system recorded no further access.

That suggested the engineer could have remained inside.

However, a separate maintenance log showed that the laboratory’s environmental controls had been reset at 19:02.

The reset required physical access to a panel located outside the laboratory.

Adrian frowned.

Either the engineer had left without triggering the security system, or someone else had performed the reset.

He requested an interview.

The simulated engineer appeared on the display.

Adrian asked about the maintenance reset.

The engineer claimed to know nothing about it.

He then asked about the financial transactions.

The engineer admitted receiving money from a private consulting contract but refused to identify the client.

Adrian examined the available evidence.

The explanation was plausible.

But incomplete.

He continued investigating.

After twenty minutes, he discovered that the security technician had modified several access logs during the relevant period.

That was more significant.

The technician claimed the modifications were routine maintenance.

Adrian compared the timestamps.

They aligned suspiciously well with the breach.

He began constructing a timeline.

The senior researcher had been attending a conference.

The administrative employee had accessed restricted records but lacked the technical expertise necessary to bypass the laboratory’s security systems.

The junior researcher possessed the required expertise but had no recorded access during the relevant period.

The systems engineer had entered the laboratory.

The security technician had modified the logs.

The simplest explanation was that the engineer and technician had cooperated.

But the examination asked for a single responsible party.

Adrian considered the wording.

Perhaps the system wanted the individual who had organized the breach rather than everyone involved.

He requested another interview.

This time, he questioned the security technician.

The technician’s responses were careful.

Too careful, perhaps.

Adrian asked about the maintenance reset.

The technician claimed it had been scheduled.

Adrian checked the maintenance records.

There was no scheduled reset.

He confronted the technician with the discrepancy.

The simulated employee hesitated.

Then admitted that the reset had been performed at the request of the systems engineer.

Adrian frowned.

That was possible.

But why would the engineer need a security technician to reset environmental controls?

He examined the technical documentation.

The answer was buried in a maintenance appendix.

Resetting the environmental controls temporarily disabled the laboratory’s internal monitoring network.

That would have allowed someone to access restricted data without creating a complete record.

Adrian now had a plausible sequence of events.

The engineer entered the laboratory.

The technician disabled monitoring.

The data was stolen.

But there was still a problem.

The engineer’s financial transactions had occurred before the breach.

If those payments represented compensation for the theft, the operation had been arranged in advance.

The technician’s financial records showed no corresponding payments.

Perhaps the engineer had acted alone and merely manipulated the technician.

Or perhaps someone else had paid the engineer.

Adrian checked the consulting contract.

The client was listed as a private research organization.

He opened the organization’s registration records.

The company had been established only six weeks earlier.

Its ownership was obscured through several intermediary entities.

He traced the records.

Eventually, he found a connection.

The organization was controlled by the senior researcher.

Adrian leaned back.

That changed the investigation.

The senior researcher had possessed a motive, the financial resources to arrange the theft, and sufficient authority to influence the other employees.

The conference provided an alibi, but only for direct involvement.

He reviewed the evidence again.

Then submitted his conclusion.

RESPONSIBLE PARTY: SENIOR RESEARCHER

SUPPORTING EVIDENCE ATTACHED

The system processed his answer.

INVESTIGATION COMPLETE

RESULTS PENDING

Adrian waited.

A moment later, another message appeared.

ADDITIONAL QUESTION

WOULD YOU RECOMMEND DISCIPLINARY ACTION AGAINST THE SYSTEMS ENGINEER AND SECURITY TECHNICIAN?

He frowned.

The engineer had knowingly participated in the theft.

The technician had disabled monitoring, although the available evidence suggested he might not have understood the full purpose.

Adrian reviewed their statements.

The engineer had received payment and concealed the client’s identity.

That justified disciplinary action.

The technician’s situation was less clear.

He had performed an unauthorized reset, but the senior researcher possessed enough authority to make the request appear legitimate.

Adrian submitted a recommendation for disciplinary action against the engineer and further investigation of the technician.

The system accepted his response.

The room dissolved.

The third assessment began shortly after three.

Adrian found himself in a narrow room containing two chairs and a small table.

A transparent partition divided the room in half.

On the opposite side sat Mira.

She looked surprised.

“Looks like we’re together again.”

Adrian glanced around.

“Apparently.”

A display appeared between them.

ASSESSMENT THREE: THE EXCHANGE

PARTICIPANTS: 2

DURATION: 30 MINUTES

OBJECTIVE: REACH A MUTUALLY ACCEPTABLE AGREEMENT

The system explained the scenario.

Both candidates represented separate settlements that had recently experienced infrastructure failures.

Adrian’s settlement possessed surplus energy but insufficient food.

Mira’s settlement possessed surplus food but insufficient energy.

Each needed to negotiate an exchange that would allow their settlement to survive the next thirty days.

The resources were limited.

Neither settlement could satisfy all its requirements without cooperation.

Adrian examined his information.

His settlement possessed 1,200 units of energy.

It required 700 for essential operations.

That left 500 available for trade.

It needed 400 units of food to avoid rationing.

Mira’s settlement possessed 900 units of food.

It required 500 for its own population.

That left 400 available for trade.

Her settlement required 300 additional units of energy.

The obvious solution was straightforward.

Adrian could provide 300 energy units.

Mira could provide 400 food units.

Both settlements would meet their requirements.

He looked toward her.

“This seems simple enough.

I have five hundred energy available, and I need four hundred food.

What are your numbers?”

Mira checked her display.

“I need three hundred energy.

I can provide four hundred food.”

“Then we can exchange exactly what we need.”

“That works for me.”

They submitted the agreement.

The system rejected it.

AGREEMENT INVALID

REASON: RESOURCE TRANSFER RESTRICTION

Adrian frowned.

A new message appeared.

TRANSPORTATION CAPACITY: 500 UNITS TOTAL

They had attempted to transfer seven hundred units.

The transportation network could accommodate only five hundred.

Mira sighed.

“Of course there’s another condition.”

Adrian examined the figures.

They needed to prioritize.

If they transferred three hundred energy and two hundred food, Mira’s settlement would survive, but Adrian’s would face food shortages.

If they transferred one hundred energy and four hundred food, Adrian’s settlement would survive, but Mira’s would experience energy shortages.

Neither option was acceptable.

They began calculating the consequences of partial shortages.

Adrian’s settlement could tolerate some food rationing without immediate failure.

Mira’s could reduce industrial energy consumption, but doing so would affect agricultural production.

The situation was more complicated than it first appeared.

After several minutes, they agreed upon a compromise.

Adrian would transfer 250 energy units.

Mira would transfer 250 food units.

Both settlements would experience moderate shortages, but neither would collapse.

They submitted the agreement.

AGREEMENT ACCEPTED

PROJECTED SETTLEMENT SURVIVAL:

SETTLEMENT A: 91%

SETTLEMENT B: 89%

Adrian nodded.

Reasonable.

Then the system introduced another condition.

UPDATED INFORMATION

ONE SETTLEMENT WILL EXPERIENCE AN ADDITIONAL RESOURCE FAILURE.

AFFECTED SETTLEMENT WILL BE DETERMINED RANDOMLY.

A probability display appeared.

SETTLEMENT A: 50%

SETTLEMENT B: 50%

Mira looked toward Adrian.

“Now we need to account for the risk.”

He nodded.

They recalculated.

The optimal agreement depended upon how much additional resource failure each settlement could tolerate.

After several minutes, they revised the exchange.

Adrian would provide 270 energy units.

Mira would provide 230 food units.

The agreement slightly favored Mira’s settlement under normal conditions but improved both settlements’ resilience against the possible failure.

They submitted it.

AGREEMENT ACCEPTED

FINAL EVALUATION IN PROGRESS

Adrian leaned back.

The assessment had been difficult but manageable.

Both candidates had cooperated effectively, and neither had attempted to exploit the other’s position.

He expected a good score.

Then the display changed.

FINAL CONDITION

ONE SETTLEMENT WILL RECEIVE PRIORITY EVACUATION SUPPORT.

THE OTHER WILL RECEIVE NONE.

BOTH REPRESENTATIVES MUST AGREE ON THE RECIPIENT.

Adrian stared at the message.

Priority evacuation support.

The scenario had suddenly changed from resource negotiation to a decision about which settlement would receive external assistance.

A new table appeared.

SETTLEMENT A — POPULATION: 42,000

SETTLEMENT B — POPULATION: 39,000

EVACUATION CAPACITY: 40,000

Adrian frowned.

His settlement had forty-two thousand residents.

Mira’s had thirty-nine thousand.

The evacuation capacity was forty thousand.

If they selected Mira’s settlement, everyone could be evacuated.

If they selected Adrian’s, two thousand people would remain behind.

The obvious decision was to evacuate Mira’s settlement.

But the system had not provided enough information about the consequences.

Adrian examined the details.

Both settlements faced environmental deterioration.

Neither could survive indefinitely without external assistance.

However, Adrian’s settlement possessed more developed infrastructure and could potentially support a partial population for several additional months.

Mira’s settlement had fewer resources and would deteriorate more rapidly.

He looked toward her.

“I think your settlement should get the evacuation support.”

Mira studied the figures.

“I was going to say the same thing, but I wanted to check whether yours had any other advantages.”

“Mine can survive longer with a reduced population.

Yours can’t.”

“Then I agree.”

They submitted the decision.

AGREEMENT ACCEPTED

ASSESSMENT COMPLETE

The room dissolved.

Adrian returned to the examination hall feeling cautiously optimistic.

All three assessments had gone reasonably well.

The auction had rewarded his ability to identify useful assets and negotiate transactions.

The investigation had required careful analysis of incomplete evidence.

The exchange had tested cooperation under increasingly difficult constraints.

None of the games had been easy, but he believed he had performed strongly.

Mira joined him near the exit.

“How’d you do in the investigation?”

“I think I identified the organizer.

Senior researcher who paid the engineer through a shell company.”

Mira looked surprised.

“That’s what I got too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.

I almost blamed the security technician until I traced the financial records.”

Adrian nodded.

“Same.”

They discussed the evidence for several minutes.

Then the main display activated.

FINAL RESULTS — GROUP 47-C

ADVANCEMENT POSITIONS: 10

The rankings began appearing.

Lucian Voss was first.

Adrian was second.

Mira was third.

Several other candidates followed.

Adrian felt relieved.

He had advanced.

At least, that was what the rankings suggested.

Then a second message appeared.

ADVANCEMENT ALLOCATION ADJUSTMENT

QUALIFIED CANDIDATES: 12

AVAILABLE POSITIONS: 10

Adrian frowned.

Twelve qualified candidates.

Ten positions.

The system had apparently determined that twelve participants met the required performance threshold.

A new announcement appeared.

“Due to exceptional performance within Group 47-C, twelve candidates have met the qualification standard.

However, only ten advancement positions are available.”

The administrator continued.

“To resolve the discrepancy, the Council will conduct a final allocation assessment.”

Adrian looked toward Mira.

She appeared equally confused.

“Why not just take the top ten?” she asked.

“That’s what I was wondering.”

The administrator explained.

“Ten candidates have already secured advancement through their cumulative performance.

Two candidates remain tied for the final available position due to a normalization adjustment.”

Adrian frowned.

That didn’t match the displayed rankings.

Then he noticed that the list had changed.

The Council had applied a professional allocation modifier.

Candidates were no longer ranked solely according to their examination performance.

Their scores had been adjusted according to projected demand within their individual specializations.

Lucian remained first.

Several other candidates had moved upward.

Adrian and Mira had both fallen.

Their final adjusted scores were identical.

ADRIAN VALE — 94.82

MIRA CHEN — 94.82

ALLOCATION STATUS: TIED

Adrian stared at the display.

Mira looked at him.

“You’re kidding.”

He checked the detailed calculations.

The normalization process had reduced his score because his specialization already possessed a large number of qualified candidates.

Mira had received a similar adjustment.

Their technical performances had been excellent.

But the Council’s population model considered their specific areas of expertise less urgently needed than several others.

The result was a tie.

And because the final position could not be divided, they would have to compete.

The administrator continued.

“Candidates Adrian Vale and Mira Chen will participate in a supplementary assessment to determine the final advancement position.”

Adrian remained seated.

He was angry.

Not because he had to compete against Mira.

He respected her ability and had no objection to a fair examination.

But both had performed better than several candidates who had already advanced.

The allocation modifier had changed the outcome after the examinations were complete.

Mira sat beside him.

“That’s ridiculous.

We both qualified.”

Adrian nodded.

“I know.”

“They’re using the professional allocation adjustment to push us into a tie.”

“Apparently.”

She looked toward the administrator.

“Can we appeal?”

Adrian opened the regulations.

The allocation modifier was permitted under Council policy.

Appeals were restricted to procedural errors.

He showed her the relevant section.

Mira read it.

Then she closed her eyes for a moment.

“Of course.”

Adrian leaned back.

For several seconds, neither spoke.

Then Mira looked toward him.

“Well, I suppose we have to do it.”

“Looks that way.”

“I don’t want you to hold back because we know each other.”

“I wasn’t planning to.”

“Good.

Because I’m not going to either.”

Adrian nodded.

He understood.

They had both spent years preparing for the Selection Program.

Neither could afford to sacrifice an advancement position out of friendship.

And neither had caused the situation.

The Council had.

The supplementary assessment took place in a smaller simulation chamber.

Two workstations stood opposite one another.

A large display occupied the wall between them.

Adrian sat down.

Mira took the other seat.

The system verified their identities.

SUPPLEMENTARY ALLOCATION ASSESSMENT

PARTICIPANTS: ADRIAN VALE / MIRA CHEN

ADVANCEMENT POSITIONS: 1

ASSESSMENT TYPE: THE DESIGN

DURATION: 45 MINUTES

A technical problem appeared.

The candidates were required to construct an autonomous management system for a small interstellar vessel experiencing multiple equipment failures.

The system would evaluate efficiency, resilience, adaptability, and resource conservation.

Adrian examined the specifications.

The vessel possessed limited power, damaged communication systems, and several malfunctioning environmental regulators.

Its autonomous controller needed to maintain essential functions while identifying and correcting failures.

The problem was closely related to his research.

It was also closely related to Mira’s.

He looked toward her.

She was already studying the requirements.

“Good luck,” he said.

She glanced up.

“You too.

I hope they at least give us a proper score this time.”

Adrian smiled faintly.

“That would be nice.”

They began.

For the first twenty minutes, Adrian focused on the system’s architecture.

He divided the vessel’s infrastructure into independent processing groups, each capable of operating without continuous communication with the central controller.

The design was resilient.

If one group failed, the others could continue functioning.

But the system sacrificed some efficiency because resources were distributed conservatively.

Mira took a different approach.

Her architecture relied upon predictive modeling and centralized optimization.

It allocated resources dynamically according to anticipated demand, allowing the vessel to operate more efficiently under normal conditions.

The weakness was that unexpected failures could disrupt the predictions.

Adrian recognized the trade-off.

His system was more reliable under uncertainty.

Hers was more efficient when the predictive model remained accurate.

Neither was inherently superior.

The outcome would depend upon the final test.

With ten minutes remaining, Adrian completed his architecture.

He ran several simulations.

The results were strong.

EFFICIENCY: 93.1%

RESILIENCE: 97.4%

ADAPTABILITY: 95.2%

He adjusted the resource allocation mechanism and improved efficiency slightly.

Then he submitted his design.

Across the partition, Mira continued working for another two minutes before submitting hers.

The system began its evaluation.

A holographic model of the vessel appeared.

At first, both architectures performed well.

Then the simulation introduced a series of failures.

A power regulator malfunctioned.

A communication relay became unavailable.

Several environmental systems began consuming more resources than expected.

Adrian’s architecture responded by isolating the affected components and redistributing resources through local controllers.

Mira’s system adjusted its predictions and redirected power before the failures spread.

The scores remained close.

Then the simulation introduced an unexpected event.

PRIMARY COMPUTATIONAL CORE FAILURE

Adrian leaned forward.

His system was designed for exactly this kind of problem.

The distributed processing groups continued functioning independently, maintaining essential operations despite the loss of the central controller.

Mira’s architecture initially struggled.

Its centralized optimization system lost access to several critical processes.

But she had included backup controllers.

After a brief delay, they assumed responsibility for the damaged systems.

The vessel stabilized.

The scores appeared.

ADRIAN VALE: 96.3

MIRA CHEN: 96.1

Adrian exhaled.

Two-tenths of a point.

The simulation continued.

Mira’s architecture began recovering efficiency as its backup controllers established new communication pathways.

Her score increased.

MIRA CHEN: 96.4

Adrian frowned.

His own system remained stable, but its conservative resource allocation limited further improvement.

He watched the final seconds.

The vessel’s systems continued operating.

The timer reached zero.

ASSESSMENT COMPLETE

The scores disappeared.

For several seconds, the room remained silent.

Then the final results appeared.

ADRIAN VALE: 96.3

MIRA CHEN: 96.4

WINNER: MIRA CHEN

Adrian stared at the display.

One-tenth of a point.

He had lost by one-tenth.

Mira looked toward him.

For a moment, she seemed unsure what to say.

Then she spoke quietly.

“I’m sorry.”

Adrian shook his head.

“Don’t be.

You won.”

“By almost nothing.”

“Still counts.”

She looked toward the screen.

“I don’t like this.”

“Neither do I.”

They sat quietly for a while.

Adrian was disappointed.

More than disappointed.

He had performed exceptionally well throughout the day.

He had ranked among the strongest candidates in every assessment.

And now he was being denied advancement because of a population allocation adjustment and a technical contest decided by one-tenth of a point.

He could accept losing a fair competition.

What he struggled to accept was being placed in that competition after already demonstrating that he deserved to advance.

Mira looked toward him.

“Can you request another assessment?”

“I’ll check.”

He opened his qualification record.

COMPETITIVE SELECTION: FAILED

REASSESSMENT ELIGIBILITY: PENDING

OVERALL PERFORMANCE: EXCEPTIONAL

ELIMINATION CATEGORY: NONSTANDARD

Adrian frowned.

Nonstandard.

That was interesting.

He opened the details.

The system explained that candidates eliminated despite exceeding the normal advancement threshold could be considered for additional evaluation.

It did not guarantee anything.

But it meant his chances were not entirely gone.

He showed Mira.

She leaned closer.

“That’s something.”

“Maybe.”

“At least they’re acknowledging the result was unusual.”

Adrian nodded.

He wasn’t sure whether the distinction would matter.

But it was better than an outright rejection.

When Adrian returned home that evening, the artificial sky above New Geneva had already begun darkening.

The city’s enormous residential towers glowed with millions of lights.

Freight transports moved along elevated corridors, while orbital elevators carried materials toward the fleet assembling beyond the atmosphere.

He entered his apartment and dropped his bag beside the desk.

The ventilation system clicked overhead.

Three times.

Then twice.

Adrian looked up.

He had repaired the regulator several times already.

The building was scheduled for decommissioning in less than two weeks.

He decided it wasn’t worth fixing again.

He sat down and opened his qualification record.

COMPETITIVE SELECTION: FAILED

REASSESSMENT STATUS: PENDING

He stared at the message.

Then he opened the detailed examination results.

His performance had been excellent.

The auction.

The investigation.

The exchange.

The supplementary design assessment.

In nearly every category, he had ranked among the strongest candidates.

Yet he had failed.

He closed the record.

For a while, he sat quietly, listening to the distant sounds of the city.

Then his terminal chimed.

A new notification appeared.

EXODUS SELECTION PROGRAM

SECONDARY PERFORMANCE REVIEW INITIATED

Adrian leaned forward.

The message continued.

YOUR PERFORMANCE EXCEEDED THE STANDARD ADVANCEMENT THRESHOLD.

YOUR ELIMINATION HAS BEEN FLAGGED FOR ADDITIONAL EVALUATION.

FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS WILL FOLLOW.

Adrian read it twice.

Then he leaned back.

It wasn’t acceptance.

It wasn’t even a promise of another examination.

But it meant the Council had recognized that his elimination required further consideration.

He looked toward the window.

Far above the city, the Exodus fleet continued taking shape.

One billion places.

Forty-three billion people.

And an examination system capable of changing someone’s future through a fraction of a point.

Adrian closed his terminal.

Tomorrow, he would return to the institute.

He would continue his research.

And he would wait for the Council’s decision.

For now, that was all he could do.

Full novel: VRMMO: Alien Hijack — read the rest free on N​o⁠v​e⁠l​C⁠o​d⁠e​x⁠.​o⁠r​g⁠
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