They both touched the image of the drill. It flashed green and the display disappeared.
Zyra crouched down and picked up the handheld laser drill. She pointed it down and pressed a button. A bright red laser beam dug into the ground. After a few seconds, it had cut a fist-sized hole, so Zyra hit the off switch. She got down on her hands and knees and peered into the hole.
‘Can’t see anything,’ she said. ‘Just darkness.’
‘Access lighting equipment,’ said Tark, stepping on a passing spider just in case. He chose a small torch and handed it to Zyra.
‘Getting the hang of this,’ she said, shining it down into the hole. ‘Nothing!’
‘Now what?’ asked Tark.
‘I don’t know,’ admitted Zyra. ‘But it’s got to be here somewhere.’
‘Maybe we’re in the wrong environment?’ suggested Tark. ‘Josie sent me here because some informer dude told her to. Well … maybe he lied to her.’
‘No,’ said Zyra, standing up and handing the torch back to Tark. ‘Robbie knew about the hidden area and he sent me here himself.’
‘Robbie!’ Tark’s expression darkened. ‘What’s with that clone dude? Why are you hanging around with him? And what makes him so special that he knows where this hidden area is?’
‘Well, for starters, he saved my life,’ said Zyra, scowling. She was on the attack now. ‘Secondly he sent me here to help you, so don’t you get all funny about him. And hey, you’re hanging around with that Josie chick.’
Tark gritted his teeth, spun around in frustration and threw the torch up into the air with all his might.
The torch smashed in the air several metres above them, the pieces raining down onto the featureless ground.
Tark and Zyra looked down at the pieces, then up above their heads, and then down at each other. All their aggression drained away.
Zyra smiled. ‘It’s above us.’
Tark smiled. ‘Yep.’
‘Hmmm.’ Zyra pointed the drill above her head and gave it a thirty second blast. ‘Look!’ she gasped.
Up above them was … something! It was insubstantial and it shimmered like a mirage in a heat haze. And it was enormous, stretching out in all directions. It must have been at least half a kilometre in diameter.
‘Wow!’ breathed Tark.
The mirage faded away.
‘Now, how do we get in?’ asked Tark slowly.
Zyra powered up the drill again. As the laser beam struck the surface, it shimmered into visibility. Zyra kept the drill running, focusing the laser onto one spot.
An intense point of light appeared on the shimmering surface above them.
‘Something’s happening,’ said Zyra.
‘We’re doing it!’
Zyra upped the intensity and the spot of light brightened. The shimmering outline faded as that one spot of light slowly grew.
And then it shot down at Zyra.
She dropped the drill and leapt out of the way as the ground exploded.
‘That is not good,’ said Tark, staring at Zyra.
‘Neither is that,’ said Zyra, pointing up.
There were now two points of light, one above each of them. Tark grabbed Zyra’s hand and they ran. The spots of light shot down, exploding on impact with the ground.
Zyra glanced upwards.
‘Oh no,’ she panted.
Above then, multiple points of light were forming.
‘We’re going to have to jump,’ she said. ‘Or exit.’
‘I still don’t have the hang of jumping,’ said Tark.
‘Just keep holding on to me and I’ll jump us,’ said Zyra.
Spots of light exploded around them.
‘Anytime now would be great,’ called Tark, gasping for breath.
‘I’m trying. But it’s not working.’
‘We’re gonna have to exit, then,’ shouted Tark.
‘Exit!’ they both yelled.
More explosions. One of them a little too close for comfort.
‘We’re trapped!’ shouted Tark, panic edging his voice as they ran and dodged.
Suddenly the explosions ceased. Tark and Zyra stopped running.
‘We must have gone beyond the edge of that thing,’ said Zyra.
Tark let go of her hand and paced back and forth.
‘Should have known that thing’d have security.’
‘We should try jumping now,’ suggested Zyra.
Tark took hold of her hand again and looked into her eyes.
They now stood in a field of golden flowers.
‘Why here?’ Tark kicked at the nearest bloom.
‘Don’t start.’ Zyra held up a warning finger. ‘We’ve got to work things out.’
‘Tark, are you there?’ Josie’s voice broke into Tark’s thoughts. ‘Where are you? Answer me!’
‘I’m here,’ said Tark. ‘Just had a bit of trouble.’
‘What?’ demanded Josie. ‘Report!’
‘Is that the Josie chick you’re talking to?’ asked Zyra.
‘The hidden place is huge,’ said Tark, nodding at Zyra. ‘And it’s got security. Blocks out communications. It kinda makes you tired. And when we tried to get in, it shot at us.’
‘So now what?’ asked Josie.
‘Don’t know!’ said Tark.
‘The Ultimate Gamer,’ whispered Zyra.
‘What?’
‘The Ultimate Gamer.’ Zyra’s voice was louder now. ‘We need to get his help. If there is anyone in the Game who can get us in there, it’s him.’
‘Are you sure he isn’t, like … dead?’
‘Yes and no,’ said Zyra. ‘The Ultimate Gamer is Bobby. And Bobby is Robert. And although Bobby died in the Game, Robert is still alive in the real world. And he says he can go back in whenever he wants.’
‘Okay then,’ said Tark. ‘How do we get him to help?’
‘Now that, I don’t know,’ admitted Zyra.
22: Designing
Robbie’s eyes snapped open. He was standing in Designer Prime’s room, syringe in hand.
‘How did it go?’ asked Robert, eager to know.
‘According to plan,’ answered Robbie, wiping his nose. ‘Zyra’s safely in the Game. I have taken her to Tark. And they’re attempting to gain entry to the secure environment that Designer Alpha has created.’
‘You just used two contractions,’ noted Robert.
‘So I did.’ Robbie put the syringe back in the dispenser. ‘I will need to distract Designer Alpha. The longer it takes for her to realise what has happened, the longer Zyra and Tark will have to achieve their goal.’
‘What did you have in mind?’ asked Robert.
‘I will go and speak with her.’
Robert’s chair glided across the room. He stopped in front of the door that appeared in the far wall. ‘I have a better idea,’ he said.
If Robbie had eyebrows, he would have raised one.
‘I am still a Designer,’ continued Robert. There was a determination in his voice – a determination that Robbie had not heard in a long time. ‘I am the original Designer. I think it is high time that I did some designing.’
For the first time in years, Robert’s chair exited his room.
Robbie watched his creator glide out, and smiled before following.
Robert silently went to the programming portal. He glided in on his chair, going straight to the centre of the room. Robbie followed him in, staying by the door as it closed.
‘Activate portal,’ said Robert.
‘Security scan,’ announced the disembodied, androgynous voice.
Waves of green light flickered across Robert’s face and chair.
‘Identity confirmed,’ said the voice. ‘Welcome, Designer Prime. Level one portal access granted.’
Holographic controls materialised around Robert. He lifted his arms unsteadily, experimentally flexing his real fingers and his mechanically enhanced ones. Robbie noticed that his real hand shook slightly.
Robert took a
deep rattly breath and his hands moved across the displays, slowly and unsteadily at first. Strings of code opened up in front of him, hovering about him in the chamber; his hands found their old confidence, picking up speed and moving instinctively across the controls. Numbers and symbols flew across the room, rearranging themselves, forming new patterns and making corresponding changes within the Game.
As the Designer’s hands slowed down, the coding melted away, replaced by the visuals of a Game environment. Tall glass and metal structures reached high into an indigo sky. A grid-work of roads worked their way amongst them. The environment looked deserted.
The image around the Designer zoomed in, down through the buildings focusing in on a crossroads. At the intersection, a swirl of pixels coalesced into four bronze figures, backs to each other, each facing down one of the roads. With heavy steps, they walked purposefully along the roads.
In unison, the four bronze figures raised their arms. Energy crackled through their bodies, along their arms and out towards the structures around them. Buildings exploded, debris raining down around them. They continued walking, arms raised, more destructive energy shooting from their fingertips.
A frisson of grey static formed above the figures.
‘Ha.’ Robert laughed. ‘That should distract Alpha for a while. An infringement in a priority-one military training environment. An infringement that the standard anti-virus software will not be able to deal with.’
Robert swiped his hand over the holo-display and the image of the environment dissolved, replaced again by numbers and symbols, floating in the air around him.
‘Now to the real work.’ Again, his hands flew across the controls. ‘Time to go a little deeper.’
Strings of code moved around Robert. It was like he was travelling through it, navigating his way around the binary intricacies, through the highways and byways, the avenues and boulevards behind the unreality. Numbers and symbols flew by at an astonishing rate, but Robert’s eyes flicked across every one of them, guiding the flow, following the nuances to his destination.
‘Access denied,’ the androgynous voice suddenly announced.
‘What?’ demanded Robert, hands pushing forward on the holo-display.
The coding had stopped dead. He could not push through.
‘Access denied,’ repeated the voice.
‘Oh, I don’t think so,’ said Robert.
A new display of controls appeared in front of him.
‘Override access restrictions,’ said Robert. ‘Back door key.’
The image of a door appeared in the display, a numeric keypad in its centre. Robert reached out and entered a string of numbers …
01001100 01100101 01110100 00100000 01001101 01100101 00100000 01001001 01101110 00100001
There was an uneasy silence. It was only a few seconds, but it was a very tense few seconds.
The holographic door opened, then melted away.
‘Unrestricted access granted,’ the voice finally said. ‘Praise be to Designer Prime.’
Robbie rolled his eyes.
‘I saw that,’ said Robert. ‘Don’t think that I haven’t been noticing your behaviour.’
Robbie was about to reply, when Robert tensed. ‘Something is wrong,’ he announced.
‘What?’ asked Robbie.
‘There’s a digital signature that should not be here,’ explained Robert. ‘At the very back end of the whole thing.’
‘Designer Alpha?’ asked Robbie.
‘No,’ said Robert. ‘Something a little closer to home.’ His hands stilled. ‘It’s me. It’s Bobby!’
‘But you’re not in the Game,’ said Robbie. ‘You’re not playing.’
‘Yet there he is,’ said Robert, wonder and excitement slowly creeping into his voice. ‘Bobby is no longer waiting for me.’
23: Return of the Ultimate Gamer
‘Heard you guys wanted my help?’
Bobby stood in the field of flowers behind Tark.
Tark spun around to face him and Zyra came up beside him.
It was him. Bobby. Still wearing his faded blue jeans, red T-shirt and white trainers. Still twelve years old. And still alive. Zyra felt a rush of affection for the strange boy who had caused them so much trouble but who, in the end, had saved them from a mad anti-virus program. She stepped forward and gave him a hug.
‘Stop it!’ Bobby pulled away, whining.
Zyra stifled a grin. ‘How did you …’ her voice petered out, leaving the question hanging.
‘Oh, you know.’ Bobby waved his hand dismissively. ‘I have my finger on the pulse of the Game.’
‘So, Robert has –’
‘NO!’ Bobby held up his hand. ‘I don’t want to talk about him.’
Zyra looked at Tark and then slowly back at Bobby.
‘Now, let’s get down to business,’ said Bobby. ‘You need me?’
‘Yes,’ said Zyra. ‘We need your help to get into the Designers’ hidden environment.’
‘Hidden environment?’ Bobby lifted his hand to his chin and rubbed at it theatrically. ‘Sounds interesting. Tell me more.’
‘I thought Robert knew all about this,’ said Tark, glancing at Zyra.
Bobby walked straight up to Tark, pushed his face up to Tark’s and yelled: ‘I AM NOT ROBERT!’
Tark stared at him with wide, shocked eyes. ‘Okay,’ he said slowly, as if he was talking to a deranged lunatic. ‘You’re not Robert.’
‘My name is Bobby,’ the boy continued in a more subdued voice. ‘Robert and I share the same past and my existence has been dependent on him.’ There was a distinct vehemence in his voice, now. ‘But we are not the same. I don’t know everything he does. And I do things differently. I play!’
‘Oh, Robert plays as well,’ said Zyra. ‘Just different games.’
‘Whatever!’ Bobby said. ‘Now get to the point.’
‘Listen –’
Zyra cut Tark off with a hand on his shoulder.
‘Bobby,’ Zyra said in a quiet voice. ‘Designer Alpha has a hidden, security-laden environment within another environment. I don’t know what’s in there, but it has something to do with the children she has been kidnapping in the real world and hooking up to the Game.’
‘I don’t care about the real world,’ said Bobby. ‘This is my real world.’
‘Okay, okay,’ said Zyra. ‘Well, Tark and I are in this world now and we need to get into that hidden environment.’
‘Well, good luck with that.’ Bobby turned to walk off.
‘Wait!’ called Zyra. ‘We can’t get in past the security. We need your help.’
Bobby stopped but didn’t turn to face them.
‘Please,’ said Zyra. ‘We can’t do it without you.’
‘What makes you think I would want to help you?’ he asked. ‘I don’t care about what you want.’
‘Yeah, I get that,’ said Zyra. ‘But you do like to play. And this is the biggest game of all. The ultimate game for the Ultimate Gamer.’
Bobby slowly turned to face them.
‘This is like playing against the Designers,’ continued Zyra. ‘You don’t like losing, do you? I remember that. Well, you didn’t know about the hidden environment, did you? The Designers successfully kept that hidden from you. They beat you.’
‘They haven’t beaten me.’ Bobby’s eyes flared with defiance.
‘I don’t know,’ said Zyra, pressing her advantage. ‘I’m willing to bet that the security Tark and I encountered was just the first level. I think there’s lots more of it. Stuff that even you might not be able to get past.’
‘I can get past anything.’
‘Oh yeah,’ piped up Tark. ‘Well prove it!’
He did a double take. They were no longer in the field of golden flowers. They were in the desolate environment from which they had earlier escaped. He was standing next to Zyra. Bobby was nowhere to be seen.
In his place, stood the Ultimate Gamer, his tall frame a constant movement of liquid silver
in vaguely human form. He was turned away from Tark and Zyra, featureless face looking up. Immediately, Tark and Zyra remembered the first time they had seen him – how he had battled the anti-virus program in a light grid; how he had continued to fight, despite the odds; how he had been willing to sacrifice himself in order to win.
Zyra nudged Tark with an elbow and raised her eyebrows, obviously pleased with herself.
A set of holographic control boards and touch-screens materialised around the Ultimate Gamer, hanging in the air. His fingers ran across them in swift, smooth motions.
‘Scanning.’ The silky smooth voice emanated from him. ‘Interesting.’
‘What?’ asked Tark.
‘Scans are ineffective,’ he said, the holograms dissipating. ‘There is nothing there.’
‘But …’ Tark began.
‘I know,’ said the Gamer. ‘It is there. But it is hidden. Even from my scans.’ He paused. ‘Interesting.’
A chair appeared behind the Gamer, hovering above the ground. He sat down and an array of displays, screens and keyboards appeared. They floated in the air around him, encasing him in a holographic techno cocoon. Finally a joystick coalesced.
‘Let’s play!’ It was Bobby’s voice that spoke those words.
The Gamer took hold of the joystick with one hand while the other flew across the keyboards.
A light grid formed, one green luminous thread after another, criss-crossing a pattern through the landscape.
‘We are inside it,’ said Tark, head snapping from one direction to the other.
‘We’re part of this game,’ said Zyra.
They watched as the grid continued to form, the beams of light shooting from one end of the landscape to the other. Above them, the hidden environment bent the light, diverting it. By displacing the light, its form became visible.
It was an enormous egg shape, suspended three metres in the air. Tark, Zyra and the Gamer were at the edge, looking up.
‘We require a vehicle,’ said the Gamer.
Machinery formed around him – a combustion engine, chassis, frame, oversized wheels. Finally the matt-black outer cover was in place. The Gamer sat in an open jeep, his holo-controls arranged in the front section, two empty seats behind him.
Gamers' Rebellion Page 9