Game Breaker

by Cheree Alsop

  “Dress to impress so they’ll take you for the best,” the colorful man had told him on more than one occasion.

  “I don’t know how to thank you,” Breccan told Sneedle as they waited for Jorie. He looked out across the rows upon rows of clothes with utter relief that he didn’t have to go back in there. “I would have been completely lost without your help.”

  Sneedle gave a little snort. “Yes, you would have.”

  That brought a laugh from Breccan. He glanced at Sneedle and saw answering laugh lines deepen around his eyes. Breccan put words to the impulse that struck him. “How much is your debt?”

  Sneedle glanced at him. “It’s none of your business.” There wasn’t any bite to the man’s words, only the tone of heaviness that echoed their conversation.

  “You took pity on a newb for no reason,” Breccan said.

  “I did it for amusement,” Sneedle replied lightly. “If I have to work here, it might as well be enjoyable.”

  Breccan nodded. “Well, I would like to pay you for your work.”

  Sneedle watched him closely. “You already paid for the clothes.”

  Breccan turned his wrist over. “How much do you need?”

  Sneedle hesitated, then shook his head. “I deserve my debts. I won’t take your charity.”

  “It’s not charity,” Breccan replied calmly. “It’s simply my way of showing gratitude.” He lifted a shoulder. “And honestly, it’s the only way I have. You were kind. You didn’t need to be.”

  They both knew it was true. From what Breccan had seen of the Edge thus far, people didn’t pretend like they did in real life. There was no reason to act nice. If someone didn’t like something, they said it. The social norms of being civil didn’t appear to be the standard in this world. It was refreshing in a way to know where everyone stood.

  Breccan held the man’s gaze. “Sneedle, you need these ECs more than I do. Take them.”

  “No,” Sneedle denied.

  Breccan narrowed his gaze. “Take them now or I’ll figure out how to get them to you some other way.”

  “You can’t do that,” Sneedle replied.

  Breccan let out a breath and went with honesty. “Look. I got lucky. Nobody told me the Battle Boss was unbeatable. I doubt I could do it twice, especially knowing it’s supposed to be impossible.” He shrugged. “I don’t even know if I’ll be back to the Edge, so I’m choosing to spend my ECs as if there’s no tomorrow.” The thought of not coming back made his throat tighten slightly. He cleared his throat and held out both of his arms to emphasize his new tuxedo. “So I’m living it up ridiculously.” He lowered his arms and his voice. “Give me the chance to spend at least some of it wisely in a way that will make a difference.” He lifted his arm again. “Take what you need to settle your debts and help me clear my conscience.”

  Sneedle appeared hesitant when he said, “Help you clear your conscience?”

  “Yes,” Breccan replied firmly. “Someone should benefit from my luck. Why not you?”

  That made Sneedle give a shadow of his smile. He grabbed Breccan’s arm, his hand under the numbers and his forearm up.

  “You sure about this?” he asked.

  Breccan nodded. “It’s the surest I’ve been about anything since I got to the Edge. Take as much as you need.”

  Sneedle’s brow furrowed and he turned his concentration to their hands.

  “Do what I do,” he instructed.

  Breccan watched the man put his thumb to the green circle beneath his EC tracker and did the same. His arm buzzed and then the numbers began to go down. The longer he held his thumb to it, the faster the numbers transferred. Sneedle’s eyebrows pulled together and he watched wordlessly as the numbers transferred from Breccan’s arm to his.

  The box around Sneedle’s numbers turned from red to green. “That’s enough,” Sneedle said sooner than Breccan thought he would.

  Breccan continued to transfer credits. The amount had barely made a dent in his ECs, but Sneedle’s face was paler than before. His eyes widened when Breccan kept up the transfer.

  The man in the bright clothes finally pulled away. “That’s plenty, Game Breaker,” he said. “Avatars would kill for what you’ve just given me.”

  “Just like that Battle Boss almost killed me,” Breccan replied. “Luckily for both of us, I made it through.” He smiled. “At least you can pay off your debts and enjoy the Edge again.”

  Sneedle nodded solemnly. “I will, thanks to you.” He held out his hand. “I really don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.”

  Breccan shook his hand. “You got me these, remember?” he said, indicating his clothes.

  “I helped you pick them out, but you bought them,” Sneedle reminded him.

  Breccan waved a hand. “Semantics. Plus, you helped Jorie when they wouldn’t sell her anything.” His brow furrowed. “I still don’t understand what the problem was. I’m pretty sure they charged me double for her clothes. It’s not that I care about the ECs, I just felt like they were rude to her.” He shook his head. “I’m not sure I’ll ever understand this place.”

  Sneedle gave him a searching look. “You really are something, aren’t you?”

  “Is that a good thing?” Breccan asked with uncertainty.

  Sneedle nodded. “You’re pure, Game Breaker. That’s something we don’t find here very often anymore.” He rubbed the back of his neck as if the conversation made him uncomfortable, but he continued with, “Most of us have learned to hide our true selves behind our avatars, but you don’t do that.” He gave a small smile. “It’s a little easier if you aren’t so honest.”

  The made Breccan smile in return. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  The sound of commotion made him turn. “What’s that?”

  A huge group appeared among the dresses. Breccan recognized quite a few of them from the elevator, but others had joined the throng. The talking, laughing group slowed when they neared the elevator. The crowd of avatars parted and Breccan found himself looking at Jorie for what felt like the very first time.

  They had found her a silver empire cut dress with a deep lavender underlay that matched her eyes perfectly. Someone had styled her hair on top of her head and left just a few tendrils down to frame her face. She wore long silver gloves and diamond-inlaid shoes that sparkled when they peeked out beneath the hem of her dress.

  The way she held her head with her chin raised and just enough uncertainty in her gaze to belie the confidence she portrayed made Breccan’s knees weak. He swallowed and held out his hand. “You really do look like a princess,” he said.

  That brought a bright smile to Jorie’s lips. She took his hand and the crowd around them cheered.

  “This is an absurd idea, you know,” Jorie said when she stepped close enough for him to hear.

  “I know, and that’s why we’re doing it,” Breccan replied.

  Pride swelled in his chest at the feeling of Jorie’s hand in his as they rode the elevator back up. The journey felt as though it took forever, but he didn’t care. Avatars got on from several stops, and whispers rose from those around them. Breccan felt like royalty as their entourage explained what they were attempting to do. He glanced over and saw Jorie smiling as if she couldn’t help it. The smile wouldn’t leave his face, either.

  When those who got on were told their story, they stayed to see what would happen. By the time the elevator reached the top floor, the crowd inside was so packed Breccan and Jorie could barely make their way to the front. Hands patted Breccan’s back and girls wished Jorie luck. She paused to kiss the little girl they had met on the head, then followed Breccan out.

  “Do it for all of us,” a woman said to them.

  “Good luck, Game Breaker,” Sneedle called after him. “Thank you again.”

  Breccan waved as the elevator doors shut.

  “What is your business here?” a Techsec asked.

  Breccan was jarred back to their current situation. Several Techsecs watched them. He f
elt a tremble run through Jorie’s hand. She stepped partially behind him.

  Breccan cleared his throat and crossed to the first Techsec. “We’re here for the ball,” he said with forced confidence.

  “Your credentials?” the Techsec asked.

  Breccan pulled up his left sleeve and held out his arm.

  The Techsec waved the device he carried. His voice was monotone when he informed them, “You do not have an invitation to the ball.” Breccan was about to argue when the security officer continued with, “But you have sufficient ECs to pay your way.”

  Relief filled Breccan and he glanced at Jorie. “I’ll be paying for both of us.”

  “Very well,” the Techsec replied.

  He put the device to Breccan’s arm. A moment later, Breccan was short more ECs than he had given Sneedle to repay his debt. The fact wasn’t lost on him.

  “Your carriage awaits,” the Techsec said.

  At the guard’s words, another Techsec pulled open the door to a waiting carriage. Cheers sounded from the elevator. Breccan and Jorie both waved at their new friends before heading toward the coach. The white stags that stood in the traces had been waiting motionlessly a moment before, but at the touch of the door, they sprang into motion. The animals pawed the golden road, anxious to be on their way.

  “My lady,” Breccan said in his most princely voice.

  “Thank you,” Jorie replied with a giggle as she allowed him to help her into the carriage.

  Breccan joined her with a surge of excitement in his chest that he hadn’t felt since Garrick had died. He realized with a start that he was actually enjoying himself. Perhaps Jonny had done him a favor when he brought him to the Edge. Breccan made a mental note to thank his cousin whenever he saw him again.

  The thought caught his attention. “So what happens when our time here is over?”

  “You mean at the Edge?” Jorie asked.

  Breccan nodded. “It sounds silly to worry about it now, but I have school in the morning and I’m not sure I can find my way back to my cousin’s house alone.” He hated the worry that showed in his voice, but the thought had been bothering him since he arrived at Café Luz and found it empty of anyone he knew.

  Jorie’s voice was quiet when she said, “You’ll disappear when it’s time. You’ll wake up in whatever chair you started, unplug, and return to your life.”

  The thought made Breccan slump in his seat. “That’s a depressing thought.”

  Jorie laughed, surprising him. “Is your life so bad?” she asked. At his expression, her teasing smile fell slightly. “Want to talk about it?”

  The music was growing louder. Breccan shook his head in attempt to clear out the depression that blanketed him. He refused to let it ruin their night.

  “No, but thanks.” He gestured at his clothes. “We’re dressed fancier than I ever have in my life, we’re riding a carriage to an actual castle, and there’s a ball inside.” He gave her a wry smile. “Not that I have any sort of skill in dancing whatsoever, but it still sounds like fun.”

  That brought a laugh from Jorie. “I don’t know how to dance, either.”

  Breccan grinned. “Looks like we’re learning together. Fake it ‘til we make it?”

  “What?” Jorie replied with an intrigued expression.

  “It’s something my mom says,” Breccan explained. “Fake your confidence until you make it, that way you fool everyone and they won’t know how lost you feel. She told me to do that at my new school.”

  “Did it work?” Jorie asked.

  Breccan shook his head with a chuckle. “It didn’t there.”

  “So why would it here?” Jorie replied with the first sign of worry on her face.

  Breccan felt the carriage slow. “It’ll work,” he reassured her.

  “Why?” she asked when the carriage stopped.

  He held out his hand and said the line even though he knew it was cheesy, “Because I have you.”

  The smile that spread across Jorie’s face was breathtaking. A man in a white and gold uniform opened the door with a white-gloved hand.

  “Sir, Madam, the ball awaits,” he announced.

  Jorie and Breccan exchanged a glance, then made their way down the steps.

  “I have never seen anything so magical in my life,” Breccan said.

  Jorie’s hand tightened in his as they walked together beneath the huge arched entrance to the castle. Jorie’s shoes made a rhythmic staccato on the marble floor that echoed the beating of Breccan’s heart. Every few steps, men and women in white and gold bowed and curtsied when they passed. Breccan glanced back to see if they appeared concerned at the appearance of strangers, but the castle servants faced forward once more to await the next guest’s arrival into the main hallway.

  Breccan and Jorie silently took in the grandeur through which they walked. The spotless white walls vaulted high above them to ceilings edged in gold leaf and painted with numerous murals depicting heavenly beings of all forms walking the galaxy. Beneath Breccan’s feet, the thick, spotless white carpets sunk several inches, effectively muffling Jorie’s shoes to the point that Breccan wondered if she could hear his pounding heart.

  Ahead of them, a wide staircase with a golden carpet lead to a set of gold doors. Two uniformed men waited near the center of the steps.

  Breccan hesitated and felt Jorie do the same. He looked at her. “Are you ready for this?”

  She gave him a nervous smile. “Fake it ‘til we make it?”

  That brought an answering smile from Breccan. “Exactly. Let’s make a grand entrance.”

  Jorie’s violet gaze twinkled in reply. “I plan to.”

  They walked up the steps together. One of the men stepped forward at their approach.

  “Who may I say has arrived?” he inquired with a formal bow.

  Breccan wasn’t sure what to say, but Jorie saved him by replying, “Sir Game Breaker and Lady Marjorie the Third.”

  The man nodded and lead the way through the tall door his comrade held open.

  “The Third?” Breccan whispered.

  “It’s a long story,” Jorie replied. “I’d much rather make new memories instead of dredge up an old one.”

  “That’s fair,” Breccan agreed. They both followed the man inside and paused. “Something tells me this is going to be a great memory,” he said as he stared at the ballroom below them.

  “I present Sir Game Breaker and Lady Marjorie the Third,” the man in uniform announced.

  Several hundred individuals turned to look up at the dais on which Breccan and Jorie found themselves. Gowns, tuxedos, and headpieces in every color imaginable spread across the ballroom floor like a fall of rainbow-colored leaves. The most interesting thing that caught Breccan’s eye was the fact that instead of hats, several men and women wore antlers like those of a deer or goat. These antlers glittered with a brightness that glowed from the inside as if they were made from diamond stars. Those around the horned couples gave them deferential bows and looks of respect.

  “Have a magical evening,” the man said before he shut the door behind them.

  Breccan wondered if a speech was required. He had never been good at public speaking. That had been one of Garrick’s strongpoints. Fortunately, as soon as the door shut behind them, the murmur of talking returned to the room and the curiosity he had seen on a few faces was quickly replaced with benign smiles as the spectators turned back to their companions. Breccan felt as though they had been dismissed as just another rich couple, and he was very grateful for it.

  He pushed down his nerves and held out his arm to Jorie. “Shall we, my lady?”

  She slipped her hand into the crook of his arm in a wordless answer. Together, they descended toward the throng. When Breccan’s foot touched the ballroom floor, a gong sounded from deeper within the castle. Couples took their positions on the dance floor, and music began from seemingly everywhere at once. They swept through intricate steps effortlessly and swept around the room like the dancing
leaves that had been Breccan’s first impression.

  He looked around quickly. His eyes lingered on a table of refreshments.

  “Thirsty?” he asked.

  Relief showed in Jorie’s gaze. “Anything to avoid dancing.”

  He laughed. “My thoughts exactly!” He then paused. “Although, maybe I have rhythm in the Edge.”

  He tapped one foot in time to the music, and his shoulders jerked up and down. A few seconds later found him shaking back and forth in what he knew was a horribly embarrassing display. He wiggled his eyebrows invitingly at Jorie.

  “What do you think?”

  She covered her mouth as she laughed. “Do you call that rhythm?”

  Breccan noticed the wary glances of several dancers before they guided their partners away. He couldn’t contain the laughter any longer. “That’s why I suggested refreshments,” he replied.

  Jorie held out her hand. “Come on before someone thinks you’re dying and calls a Techsec.”

  “Would they save me?” Breccan asked as she led him along the edge of the ballroom floor.

  Jorie shook her head. “They would probably deactivate you as defective.”

  “I wouldn’t blame them,” Breccan replied.

  The music cut off just before they reached the refreshments table. Several horns sounded. The couples around them immediately stopped dancing and dropped to their knees.

  “What is that?” Breccan asked.

  Jorie’s face paled. She knelt and pulled Breccan down beside her.

  “Don’t look up,” she whispered.

  “Why?” Breccan replied slightly louder.

  “Quiet,” Jorie said in a tone that was near panic. “The Count and Contessa of the Edge are coming!”

  The notes from the trumpets softened into a walking cadence. The sound of oohs and aahs swept through the room. Breccan glanced up in time to see a young boy and girl walk down the steps opposite from where Breccan and Jorie had entered the ballroom. Both had elaborate diamond horns that rose from their heads and curled around in graceful circles like crowns.