The Great Game Trilogy

by O. J. Lowe

  Wilsin didn’t hear him, moved his glance to the third guy. Already he had a horrible feeling passing over him about what to expect.

  No way… Impossible.

  Except it wasn’t. Not really. Very few things were impossible. The fact he could see it right in front of his eyes told him it could happen. And maybe it was accidental. Coincidence? Could he believe that?

  Somewhere along the line he’d stopped and started to stare. And of course, that had caught Nick’s interest. He paused himself, followed Wilsin’s line of sight over to the three men. With the two of them watching, it didn’t take long for them to be made. The second guard nodded at the first, jerked his head towards the two of them. The third turned his head, allowing Nick to see the third identical scar. The three of them stood motionless for a few moments before as one, they got to their feet and moved into the building, out of sight.

  “You see anything like that before?” Wilsin asked. He wasn’t expecting an answer either way. It was damned unprofessional staring like that. Identical triplets weren’t entirely unseen. But they’d been more than identical. They were exactly the same in every single way. He’d even seen it as they walked, the way they even dragged their feet too similar to ignore.

  “Must be clones,” Nick said, shrugging. “How about that?”

  It sounded a flippant answer, Wilsin dismissed it at that. It would explain a lot. And yet, it was impossible. You couldn’t just… Not with people. Spirits, yes. People, no. It was absurd. Clones. As if!

  “It’d explain a lot,” Nick continued. “It’d explain the why. Not sure about the what and how though. It gives more questions than answers and that worries me.” He reached up to stroke his chin, his gaze focused on the door they’d vanished through.

  “The what?” Wilsin asked, confused by the expression. “What do you mean you’re not sure about the what?”

  “Well assuming they are or aren’t clones,” Nick said. “What the hells are three identical guys doing lurking outside ICCC headquarters? I know everyone’s got to be somewhere, but something doesn’t seem right there.” He patted Wilsin on the arm before glancing about the area furtively. “Good luck in your matches, Dave. See you around. I got something to take care of.”

  With that, he was gone into a crowd of people. Wilsin rolled his eyes. Tournaments like this always attracted the eccentrics. Just because he’d been acting a bit funny about it didn’t make Nick’s question any less valid though. One more curiosity about this entire tournament and the way it had been organised.

  Why did he get the feeling that this whole event was going to be memorable for all the wrong reasons?

  Neither of them had spoken since they’d seen it. Neither of them had gone to the stadium, Pete had been in a café taking a late breakfast; Sharon had been using the genisizer making some tweaks to her spirits. They’d found each other quickly, just silently stared at each other. They knew what it meant, neither of them could bring themselves to say it.

  For a moment, it looked like Sharon was ready to break the silence, lips twitching to speak and then she faltered. The look in her eyes said it all, she wasn’t happy. But he’d seen it before, he could see that although she was unhappy with the outcome, the way she held her head and nibbled at her lip told him she’d already come to accept it. And for that, he was glad. It made it easier.

  “So,” he said. The word felt hollow in the void between them. “How about that then?”

  It felt an age for the words to register and then she broke into a smile. “How about that then indeed. You going to go easy on your big sister?”

  Pete snorted. “Yeah, like that’s going to happen. And I’d ask you the same thing, but I have a feeling it’s not going to happen either.”

  She smiled, placed a hand on his shoulder. “Brother, I have a feeling we’re both going to enjoy this. You and me, only one winner. But let’s not forget that there are two other people out to spoil the party. Reda Ulikku and Bella Carrezo. Ideally it will be the two of us in the next round. Yet that isn’t always the case. Never forget that! Win or lose, let’s see it’s us, not them!” Her voice took on an almost excited tone to it as she said it and just for a moment, Pete was surprised by the passion there. She wanted them both to do it. She was his opponent and yet she still wanted him to do well. Family before… Well everything.

  “Yeah, I’ve never heard of either of them,” he said. “No problem. I’d rather be in that group than some of the others. Least I know what you’re capable of.”

  “I’m surprised you’ve never heard of Ulikku,” Sharon said. “She’s fairly famous.”

  Pete shrugged. “Not where I come from. Why, what makes her so special?”

  Sharon glanced first to the left, then to the right as if debating whether she was to be overheard. She winked at him playfully. “Oh, just wondering whether to let you in on the secret or have you work it out for yourself.”

  “Come on!” he protested. “That’s not fair.”

  “Neither is life,” she said. “Besides, what part of you being my opponent right now doesn’t compute with you? What sort of idiot would willingly give their opponent advice on winning?” That grin on her face spoke volumes and for a moment he felt a stab of anger at his sister.

  “A loving perfect sister?” he instead asked hopefully. “Maybe one who’s blond, in the about-to-be-married-mood and named Sharon?” It was a gambit, he knew that, and he really didn’t expect her to cough it up. In the same circumstances, he wouldn’t have done either.

  Still the fact she’d given him a partial head’s up in the first place… That counted for something.

  “Nice try, Peter. But you’re going to have to work that one out on your own.” She held up her hands in apology. “Sorry. But you’re getting nothing else from me. I hope you go through, but I won’t do you any favours.”

  He rolled his eyes. “You really do sound like mom, you know that? All that for the best stuff in your big speech. All you’re missing is your pedestal to shout the message from.”

  “Our mother is a wise woman; you’d do well to remember that. If I’m parroting advice from her lips, it’s only because it’s worth repeating, remember that.”

  Pete sighed. “Yeah, I know. Hey, you see who else is fighting who in one of the groups? Nick’s fighting my best friend.” He perked up at that. “Reckon I might find one of the odds compilers before that bout. Could make some easy credits there.”

  Sharon raised an eyebrow. “You think Scott can do it?”

  “What, beat Nick? Hells no, just don’t tell him I want to make some easy credits off his misfortune. He’d probably take it the wrong way.”

  “Judging by what I saw the other night between him and that redhead, I think he has more on his mind than what you might or might not do,” Sharon said dryly.

  Pete winced. “Oh yeah, heard about that. Apparently, it was a big row. Another one.” He shook his head. “Sharon, why do people like that stay together? I mean they clearly aren’t right for each other. She’s an angry woman with a massive chip on her shoulder and Scott’s a big bloody doofus at heart…” He glanced behind him. “Just checking,” he added seeing the look of bemusement on Sharon’s face. “But I’m not wrong. I mean they argue so much…”

  “And who’s to say who is or isn’t right for someone,” Sharon said. “Love is blind; you may not understand until you’ve experienced it for yourself. You ever been in love, brother? It’s not always about holding hands or stealing kisses in the moonlight like some people seem to think. Sometimes you can’t let go for fear of what comes next. I think Scott’s afraid to let go and she’s too stubborn to. Where the heart is concerned, everyone’s a potential idiot.”

  “But… That’s just stupid. I mean, how thick can you get? Scott told me he was thinking of finishing with her…”

  “And he might well think of doing it. They both probably will. But there’s a league of difference between thought and action.”

  Pete nodded. “Y
eah, I get that. And just for the record, I have been in love. I just don’t want to talk about it. Not now and not with you.”

  Sharon nodded. “Bad memories?”

  “Is there any other kind?” he asked. “Anyway, I don’t know why you’re so cynical about love suddenly. You might be about to get your happily ever after. Nick seems like a good guy.”

  “Oh, he’s wonderful, but he isn’t perfect all the time. He has this horrible habit of taking setbacks as personal insult. Every relationship is about taking the rough with the smooth. If the negatives outweigh the positives, then you have to ask yourself if it’s really worth it?”

  Anne Sullivan had ventured into the crowds in the resort area of Carcaradis Island for the first real time since her arrival with the rest of Unisco and so far, so good, she’d closed her eyes and let herself drift amidst the emotions of those around her. It was an unusual feeling, one she never tired of experiencing. And it was always so different wherever she went. Of course, it wasn’t always pleasant. Always there’d be the negative emotions; she couldn’t shut them out any more than she could the positive ones.

  Here out on the streets, she couldn’t really feel anything too strong in either direction from those around her. In the past, being around this many people would have overwhelmed her senses for sure, like being stuck amidst a riot of sound. Yet over time she’d refined her control to the point that she could fit into society relatively easily. No more traumatised collapses as had once been the case.

  Those emotions she’d never forget. Disbelief, distrust, scorn, all for one who claimed they could do something which didn’t fit all the frames of normality. She still felt them whenever her ability to empathically read people was brought up. The times when someone believed in her abilities immediately were becoming fewer. There were even those on her team who didn’t believe. Not that it mattered. Terrence Arnholt did, he genuinely believed her and that was all that mattered. If he had faith in her, what she could do wouldn’t be openly questioned. But that little hint of suspicion and disbelief would forever follow her whenever she was called into an interrogation to detect deceit.

  Something tugged at the edges of her senses, her eyes snapped open as they suddenly yanked hard and for a moment she felt very real discomfort like a knife to her brain. It took a moment to regain her composure; she fought the urge to purge her guts. No mistaking that emotion, each had their own unique sensation.

  Anger.

  Someone around her was walking around with a gut filled with anger. At what, she couldn’t say as she squinted through the crowd, trying to detect the source. It was almost painful, she could feel the knots in her stomach threatening to overspill again and she had to swallow it back down. The knives in her brain dug deeper. If this was what they were feeling amidst this setting of relative normality, what sort of person were they? She clutched the side of her head, blinked back unwilling tears.

  Whoever they were, they were in pain. They just didn’t realise how much so. Either that or they didn’t care. She bit her lip, felt the twist of pain bring her back to reality, went back to looking for them. Callers, spectators, workers, all of them were about the place and pinning down one specific individual was proving tricky across it all. The only thing stopping her from reaching for the X7 in her bag was that she hadn’t sensed any malevolence within it. They didn’t wish any mass harm. So therefore, it was likely not someone who was going to open fire or blow themselves up. A small mercy there. She’d never killed someone close up. The benefits of being a sniper. She didn’t have to feel them die from that far away.

  Anne swallowed again, went back to scanning the crowd, one eye closed as if it would make things clearer. Any sign of outward anger and at least her curiosity would be sated as to who it might be.

  “So yeah, I was completely giving her the eyes,” Scott said, leaning back in his chair enthusiastically. “I was like, yeah, I’ve got you beat and taken my eye off the ball. She thinks she’s charging this uniblast up by surprise, I can’t see it and, well she found out I could. Herc dodges it, lion gets flattened with a big ass chop, I go into the group stage and the crowd goes wild. They love me. Plain and simple. Hey, where are you going?”

  That was the fourth person he’d regaled in the last hour with the story of his overcoming of Nadia Yepes in his bout the previous day, and the fourth person to walk away. He’d been on a high ever since, honestly felt he might not come down any time soon. Winning at the best of times was something to be savoured. Here and now, it was just exhilarating. He’d done it, nobody could take that from him and it was only the start…

  He tried to ignore it, somewhere in the back of his head, that little voice that demanded attention clamouring. Yeah, it is only the start. Lots of people get through the qualifier and don’t win. Statistically ninety-nine people every tournament. Ninety-nine percent and those are bad odds by anyone’s standards. You’ve got a lot of work to do, boyo.

  Scott hated that little voice, even if he had to admit it was right. More than likely he would be the victim of some spectacularly bad odds and he’d crash and burn. To admit anything else would be denying realism. Of course, the other side of that credit was the further you went in the tournament, the shorter the odds got. He’d already gone from one in two hundred to one in a hundred. Half a chance better than he’d had before facing Yepes. He’d been in the fourth pot for the draw. They didn’t expect him to do anything.

  If anything, that stung a little. How dare these faceless idiots who come up with this stuff write him off before he’d even been able to show what he could do given the chance. He could easily qualify out of that group. Granted Nick Roper might be a tricky fight, but he had to fight him last. Roper might already have qualified then and not put as much effort in. The other two, Bruzack and Graham, he didn’t know much about them so that probably spoke volumes for their ability. Graham first, Bruzack second, Roper last. And hey, Roper would be the toughest, but two wins would send you through. If he won the opening two and so did Roper, that final bout wouldn’t matter for either of them. Then again, maybe Roper wasn’t as tough as they said. Maybe.

  “Hey, you.”

  That voice cut into his thoughts, one he’d come to be familiar with, there’d even been quite a bit of love invoked whenever he’d heard it over the past several months. What it also was however was unexpected. He turned; saw a subdued-looking Jess stood behind him, her head bowed, and hands clasped in front of her. She wore a loose skirt and a strappy scarlet vest, her hair loose down her back. For a moment, he thought she looked like she’d been crying. Except that wasn’t likely. He doubted she had tear ducts. Or if she did, he’d yet to see any evidence of it.

  “Hello stranger,” he said, immediately regretted it. Didn’t stop him from carrying on though, bitterness spilling from him like bile. “You look like someone I know. It’s uncanny. You like maybe her sister or something, because…”

  “Scott. Don’t.” She sounded as subdued as she looked, like she was broken inside. Something was missing from what he’d seen of her in the past. “Just don’t.”

  He sighed. He knew he shouldn’t take that attitude but so much of the past few days lingered on his mind, couldn’t just brush it aside because she looked like she was feeling shitty. “Well what can I say, I had a whole lot more material. I was expecting you to have gone grey the next time I saw you. Assuming I did ever see you again.”

  “What do you want me to say?!” That got a reaction and just for a moment he’d seen something of the old Jess there beneath the surface. That old fire and the rush of defiant anger that had been her trademark way back when, he could see it again. He’d always remember when they’d met. She’d been angry at the way life had spat her out, she’d been dancing in a seedy crap hole and he’d not been in a good place himself. They’d gone out travelling at the behest of a bad man who wanted them to get something he couldn’t claim himself. It hadn’t ended well, they’d nearly been arrested by Unisco as accomplices, but he�
�d always considered it the first step towards making something special with a woman who he’d come to love. “You want me to apologise?”

  It would have been the wrong thing to do but it nearly brought a burst of laughter from him. The very idea of Jesseka Blake apologising was laughable, he knew that from bitter experience. It wasn’t in her vocabulary. More to the point, she rarely believed she was in the wrong. She was a woman after all. She’d crawl naked over hot lava before admitting error.

  Still, he supposed that she was willing to offer it said something. Maybe she was willing to make amends.

  “Well,” he said. “It’d be a start.”

  Her mouth twisted at that and again, he fought the urge to smile. It really would make her uncomfortable. Did he really want that?

  “I came to your bout yesterday,” she said. “Watched you. I would have said hello but, well, I didn’t want to distract you.”

  “Thank you,” he said evenly. “I think.” He noticed she still hadn’t apologised, despite her offer. If she was to offer up one, it’d be kicking and screaming. “I thought you’d gone home.”

  “Yeah, right back to the parents who loved me and never kicked me out of that lovely house in the suburbs,” she said sarcastically. “Because who wouldn’t want to go back there?”

  “Well, all I knew was where you weren’t,” Scott said, the anger boiling hot in his stomach as he rose to his feet. “I knew you weren’t talking to me for something that wasn’t even my damn fault! Again!” It felt good getting it off his chest. “I mean, seriously, what do you want from me? I love you and nothing I ever do is good enough. Sure, I’ve made a few mistakes, but I never claimed to be perfect. And you know what? You seem to enjoy holding everyone else to that impossibly high standard while you run along and do whatever the hells you want?”

  “You finished yet?” she asked coolly. Silent anger radiated off her, he wondered if he’d pushed too far. “Scott, I’ve never wanted to hurt you. And despite what you’ve said to me since I got here, to make amends I might remind you, I know you’d never want to hurt me.”