GAME SPACE - Full Novel

by Peter Jay Black

  After standing there for a minute with what must have been a gormless expression, I thought what the heck and picked a few at random.

  I pressed the Adventure button, and it lit up.

  Action? “Sure. Why not?”

  Mystery? “Yep.”

  Science Fiction? “Oh, yes. Definitely.”

  I mashed a few more buttons for good measure, including a flashing Magical Elements one toward the bottom—whatever that meant—then hit Start at the top.

  The edges of the door glowed, inviting me in. After a glance around me, I opened it and stepped on through.

  I found myself in a broad hallway that curved behind me on either side—wood-panelled walls, almost black polished wood flooring, the opposite wall taken up by windows covered by thick curtains.

  I frowned. “Didn’t I press Science Fiction? What’s with all this wood?” I expected William Shakespeare to come prancing along at any moment, comparing me to a summer’s day and whatnot. “Where am I?” I muttered, not understanding where the story selection had taken me. “Elizabethan England?”

  I pulled back the nearest curtain, which triggered each of the other curtains to do the same, and I stared into outer-freaking-space.

  Beyond the glass was the blackest black, peppered with a billion pinpricks of light—scattered and random for the most part, with odd clumps here and there forming clouds and bands across my field of view. But what caught my attention the most was that each star was fixed and steady, not twinkling like they did when you looked up at the night sky.

  Shoulders hitched, I looked behind me. The door I’d stepped through had vanished. A twinge of panic gripped me as I wondered how I would get back home. Unnerved, I faced the front again and gazed at the universe.

  This was absolutely craz—

  A massive object moved past.

  Startled, I leapt back and slipped on the polished floor, hitting the boards with a loud thwump.

  I winced.

  A spaceship slid by, forty, fifty, sixty storeys tall, made from a patchwork of wood and iron, the lights glowing behind its windows showing the distinct outlines of people within.

  I squinted. “Are they human or . . .”

  Thirty-foot-high red symbols glided into view, painted on the ship’s hull. At first they were nothing more than a jumbled mess of random glyphs, but then they shifted and transformed into letters—

  HORIZON TWELVE

  “Hello.”

  I let out a muffled cry like a startled five-year-old caught raiding the cookie jar, then scrambled back.

  Seven

  I gazed up at a smiling woman with short-cropped red hair and flawless dark skin. She wore a silver and white jumpsuit with blue piping. With my back pressed against the wall, my attention drifted to the golden symbol on her lapel—the octagon and circle from Grandpa John’s crashed alien friends’ medallions and the cover of the CodeX.

  “Hello,” she repeated in a soft voice, still looking down at me with emotionless eyes.

  I waited for any more creepy, mannequin-like people to appear, but none were forthcoming.

  At least, I hoped not.

  “Do you require my assistance?” She held out a hand.

  I clambered to my feet. “All good. Thanks.”

  “My name is Ayesha.”

  “Cool,” I muttered and peered out of the window as the spaceship continued to slide past. It went on forever.

  I returned my attention to Ayesha.

  Ordinarily, I would have thought I’d lost my mind, but everything was far too real, including her. Besides, with alien technology, I supposed anything was possible.

  I took a juddering breath. “W-where am I?”

  My new friend spread her arms. “This is Horizon Eighteen.”

  “Wait.” I pointed at Horizon Twelve. “We’re on one like that? A spaceship?”

  Ayesha nodded. “Each Horizon-class vessel follows the same design and specifications.”

  Horizon Twelve moved past the window, and I gasped as a whole armada of spaceships came into view. There were hundreds of them, some grouped, flying in tight formations. There were at least fifty different types, most made from wood and iron. A few were as large as the Horizon ships, and others a fraction of the mass, zipping in and out like bees around hives.

  How do the ships hold together in outer space? I wondered. And, more importantly, where exactly am I?

  “The CodeX brought you here,” Ayesha said in response to my silent question, interlacing her fingers. “First, you must choose a side.”

  Two groups of holographic spaceships appeared between us—the biggest about the size of a matchbox, the smallest barely larger than a grain of sand. I leaned in, trying to make out the details.

  Ayesha indicated the group of black ships nearest to her. Each hull was angular and reminded me of the spacecraft in Grandpa John’s basement. “These are the Kraythons—cut-throat space pirates who will stop for nothing or no one in their merciless hunt for powerful Bluestone artifacts.” She pointed to the group near me. “Those are Antarians—explorers travelling the galaxy, doing everything they can to beat the Kraythons to the Bluestone artifacts.” She tilted her head. “While trying to avoid being attacked by them.”

  “You want me to pick a side?” I asked, making sure I understood. “You’re saying this is a game? I have to choose a team to play for?”

  Ayesha’s painted smile remained in place.

  I blew out a puff of air, and my attention moved back to the holographic ships. I wasn’t keen on violence—although playing on the side of the bad guys had a certain appeal—and I also didn’t like the idea of being a character that only looked out for himself.

  My gaze drifted to the fleet of Antarian ships. They hunted for magical artifacts, and that sounded fun. Besides, their goal seemed more noble, which appealed to me.

  I pointed at the Antarian fleet. “These.”

  “Very well.” Ayesha gestured, and the holographic ships between us vanished. “If you choose to continue, you will play the part of Captain”—she hesitated for a beat—“Leonardo Cooper.” She smiled again.

  I blinked at her. “Captain?”

  “Yes, Leo. Of Horizon Eighteen.” Ayesha waved an arm around us. “This is Horizon Eighteen.”

  I kept gawking. “I get to be captain of this ship?”

  “Unless you would prefer command of another vessel?”

  “No,” I said. “This is fine.”

  On the one hand, my heart raced at the prospect. A high-tech alien game? Are you kidding? Sign me up. But on the other, I felt out of my depth. Can I still get home?

  Ayesha’s smile returned. “Horizon Eighteen is a transport vessel, carrying vital supplies for the fleet.”

  A screen appeared between us, showing an interior view of a vast cargo hold, crammed full of racks, crates, and barrels—millions of them. It was hard to judge the exact size, but I guessed the space to be at least a thousand feet long and two hundred high, maybe more.

  I shook my head.

  “You will also be responsible for the lives of eight thousand people.”

  “People?” Now I thought about it, Ayesha was a human too. Or in the shape of one.

  I would have expected bulbous-headed aliens like those in Grandpa John’s basement. Then I realised the CodeX must have created a virtual reality game based around me and my species, making the aliens look human. Like the symbols changing to English, everything I’d witnessed was in the shape of what I understood, and the people would be in a form I could relate to.

  Made sense.

  Well, that was my conclusion, given the evidence.

  I sighed. So many questions.

  The image vanished, and Ayesha turned to the nearest window. “Your mission and your role within this universe will be whatever you ultimately choose, Leo.” She indicated the spaceships outside. “This is one of several starting points—a fleet exploring the galaxy, hunting for Bluestone artifacts, thousands of light-years f
rom home.” She faced me. “If you wish for a harder challenge or a more engaging story at any point, you only have to ask.”

  “Okay.” I wasn’t sure if I liked the sound of that. If I couldn’t control a stupid pixelated bird, I had no chance with something so advanced.

  Ayesha’s expression turned serious. “Would you prefer the command of a fighter? Part of Dragon Force?”

  I held up my hands. “Nope. No, this is great. Thanks.”

  I’d always been rubbish at those types of video games too—the ones where you had to shoot at stuff.

  This would do fine to start with.

  Something nice and slow.

  Relaxed.

  A leisurely flight across the galaxy.

  Besides, at that moment in time, it was hard to take in. I definitely needed to make some mental adjustments.

  A familiar word in blue lettering appeared in the top right-hand corner of my vision. CodeX. However, unlike the images Ayesha controlled, this followed my movements. No matter which way I faced, the word remained as though dangling on the end of a pole stuck to my forehead.

  “The CodeX will advise you during your time here,” Ayesha said.

  A guide? I’d definitely need one of those.

  More items appeared. In the top left of my view was a green circle with 100 written inside.

  “What’s that?” I said. “The circle and one hundred?”

  “Your health meter.”

  A square map materialised bottom left. A green dot represented my current position, along with a golden dot—Ayesha. As I turned, the map showed rooms on the other side of the nearest wall and blackness beyond the windows.

  I focused on the word CodeX, and it highlighted. “You said this is a guide?” I glanced at Ayesha. “How does it work?”

  “Would you prefer to carry a book with you during your time here?” Ayesha asked.

  I thought about that and guessed it would get annoying pretty quickly, so I shook my head.

  “Think of the CodeX as a companion,” Ayesha said. “You can ask whatever you wish, and the results will display in real time for only you to see.”

  “Great, but how do I get rid of it?”

  “Simply say, ‘CodeX, off,’ or ‘CodeX, on’ when you would like it to return and offer assistance.”

  “CodeX, off.” I then let out a relieved breath when the hovering word, map, and health meter all vanished. I looked back at Ayesha. “How do I leave the game?”

  “You say, ‘CodeX, exit,’ and you’ll return home.”

  “And to get back in again, the glowing crystal in the cover of the book will work its magic?”

  “Yes, Leo.”

  I exhaled and eyed the fleet of Antarian ships outside. “What’s the catch?”

  There was always a catch.

  I was old enough to know nothing in this universe or any other came for free.

  Ayesha inclined her head.

  “Are there any rules I should be aware of?” I pressed.

  “There is one.”

  I knew it. “Give it to me.”

  Ayesha fixed me with a hard stare. “You must not, under any circumstances, reveal to anyone within this world who you really are or how you got here.”

  “I can’t tell the characters it’s a game?” I frowned. “What happens if I do?”

  Ayesha’s expression darkened further. “The consequences will be dire.”

  I flinched at her words. “Wanna expand on that?”

  A few awkward seconds later, Ayesha’s painted smile returned. “Would you like to start now, Leo?”

  Putting her veiled threat to one side, I thought of my Mum and Dad, Milo, the lodge in Colorado, and how angry my grandfather would be with me for opening the box and stepping into the alien game.

  I sighed. “Not yet.” I fought the urge to say, “Hell-to-the-yeah. Bring it on.”

  Ayesha bowed. “Until then, Leo.”

  After an uncomfortable silence with Ayesha’s blank stare cutting right through my soul, I realised she was waiting for me.

  “Oh, right. Yeah. CodeX, exit,” I said.

  Ayesha vanished, along with everything else. My bedroom in Colorado reappeared around me, particles reforming into solid matter. When the movement stopped, it was as though the room had been there all along.

  I let out a huge sigh, relieved I was home.

  The point of light dropped to the leather-bound CodeX, returned to its crystal holder, and went dark.

  I stared down at the book, eyes wide, hands trembling, my chest heaving. Then the biggest grin spread across my face.

  Eight

  “That. Was. Amazing.” I punched the air and let out a whoop for good measure.

  The grandfather clock outside my bedroom door chimed again.

  Ah, nuts.

  How long was I away? An hour? More?

  I ran into the hallway and stopped in front of the clock. The big hand was on the twelve, and the little fella pointed to the nine. A quick mental calculation—it’s amazing how fast my mind works—told me it was nine o’clock in the morning.

  What?

  As the intergalactic game vortex—or whatever—had pulled me in, I’d heard the clock striking nine.

  My heart sank. “Is it still Tuesday?” I murmured.

  With a feeling of dread, I drew the smartphone from my pocket, wondering how the heck I would explain a prolonged absence to my parents.

  Yep, still Tuesday.

  Phew.

  I checked the month and year to be sure, but everything was hunky-dory.

  I frowned.

  Hold on—that meant no time had elapsed since I’d been inside the alien game. How was that possible? I was there for at least twenty minutes.

  Oh, right, I thought. Aliens and their pesky technology.

  That’ll explain it.

  Sort of.

  Science was never my strongest subject at school. I was more of a history guy. Loved anything to do with ancient civilisations—Egypt, the Roman Empire, Mayans, Aztecs, the Inca, Troy, Greece, Mesopotamians . . .

  Apart from that, I wasn’t good at any other subjects and was lazy for the most part.

  Guess I was destined to be a manager.

  The muffled sound of a car door closing made me spin around.

  Either Mum or Dad was home.

  I ran into my room, shoved the box with the CodeX under my bed, then sprinted through the house. When I reached the front door, I stopped and took several deep breaths, trying to look calm and composed or bored, even, with a ‘nothing unusual going on here’ type of expression. I stepped outside with a nonchalant air.

  Instead of either of my parents’ cars, a taxi stood in the driveway—a normal, all-four-wheels-on-the-ground, human taxi, that is—and the also human driver loaded cases into the trunk.

  Grandpa John appeared and strode over. He opened the rear passenger door and went to climb in, but I ran over and slid to a halt in front of him, breathing hard.

  “So, small confession.” I waited until the driver had got back into the taxi, and I lowered my voice. “Might have looked inside the box a little.”

  Grandpa John’s eyebrows pulled together like fuzzy caterpillars embracing. “I told you not to do that. How old did you say you were?”

  I flinched. “Sorry. I had to tell you the truth.” And I wanted his blessing to start the game properly.

  Grandpa John let out a breath. “It’s fine. You looked. No harm. Don’t do it again. See you in two weeks.”

  He went to get in, but I grabbed his arm.

  “No, wait,” I said. “That’s not all.”

  Grandpa John faced me with a now-stern expression, as if to say, “What else have you done, kid?”

  “I might—” I cleared my throat and braced myself. “Yeah, I might have, kinda, sorta . . .” I leaned in and whispered, “transported to an alien ship.” I grinned.

  Grandpa John grabbed my arm. “You bonded to the CodeX?”

  “I don’t know wh
at you mean by bond, but okay, sure, we had a moment. I met a woman called Ayesha. She’s, err . . . nice,” I said, not meaning it. My brow furrowed. “At least I think she was a woman. Could’ve been a robot. Not certain. Alien?”

  The caterpillars leapt into Grandpa John’s fringe. “You spoke to Ayesha?”

  I nodded, still smiling. Couldn’t help it. The whole situation was blinkin’ awesome, and I was itching to go back in. Besides, he’d given me the game on purpose, and I wanted any tips he might have for me.

  Grandpa John led me away from the taxi. “You weren’t supposed to see any of that yet.”

  I shrugged. “Hey, if you didn’t want me looking at the game, why give me the magical crystal key thingy to open the box?”

  “Shhh.” Grandpa John pursed his lips.

  “I’m sorry I told you,” I muttered. “You’ve got more important things to worry about. Go get fixed.”

  Grandpa John’s expression softened. “I was curious.”

  I knew it. “Curious about what?”

  “Whether the CodeX would bond with you.” He shook his head. “Didn’t expect it to happen so easily. So soon.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say. I didn’t consider myself gifted at anything, but I took it as a compliment.

  The taxi driver beeped his horn.

  “Wait,” Grandpa John roared.

  I snorted.

  The driver looked away.

  Grandpa John gripped my shoulders. “You’ve met Ayesha, so she’s explained?”

  “She didn’t tell me much.” I took a breath. “How many times have you played the CodeX game?”

  “Let’s just say I’ve experienced more than enough adventures for many lifetimes.” He let go and considered me for a moment, then fished in his pocket, pulling out several twenty-dollar bills and shoving them into my hand. “Give these to the driver and tell him to wait. Patiently.”

  Before I could ask what he was doing, Grandpa John marched into the house and closed the door behind him.

  Feeling sheepish, I ambled over to the taxi, and the driver lowered his window.

  I handed him the money. “Grandpa asked whether you wouldn’t mind holding on for a bit. Said he won’t be long.”