‘Your weapons are destroyed.’ The Fat Man's voice was barely audible as it crackled from the damaged speaker. ‘One more shot should finish you off.’
The starfighter streaked away, performed a complex set of loops, twists and turns, before zeroing in on them.
‘We don't stands a chance!’ said Tark, sweat dripping down his brow, panic in his eyes.
‘Never dids,’ whispered Zyra.
As they watched, the ship slowed in front of them and stopped.
‘I've got a better idea,’ the Fat Man's voice crackled through the speaker. ‘A much more creative solution.’
His starfighter manoeuvred alongside theirs. They could just see it through the corner of the window. As they watched, metal arms extended from his starfighter, and with a jarring clang, attached themselves to their ship.
And then they were moving. Fast.
In the distance, a speck of light grew brighter and bigger. It was not long before it filled their field of vision, a huge blazing orb of fire.
‘You should start to feel the heat soon,’ said the Fat Man's voice. ‘The nearer we get to the star, the hotter it will become.’
‘Exit game!’ shouted Tark in desperation. ‘Exit game!’
‘I'm afraid that won't work,’ said the Fat Man. ‘I'm the Game Master. I set the rules. And the rules include not leaving the game till it's over. Oh, and just so you know, if you die in this game.’ He paused for effect. ‘You really do die!’
‘Exit game!’ sobbed Tark.
‘It ain't no use,’ said Zyra, her voice weak and shaky. ‘We is done for.’
Tark ran to the door and tried to open it.
‘We can't just go out,’ cried Zyra. ‘We're in space. There ain't no air out there. We'll die!’
Tark opened the door anyway and rushed through it, into another tiny room, with another door. There was a small window on that door, and through the window he could see the Fat Man's starfighter.
Tark uselessly banged his fists onto the window, before returning to Zyra.
‘This ain't fair,’ said Tark. ‘If we wuz facin’ him, then at least we coulds ’ave had a chance.’ He patted the hilt of his sword.
‘The sword o’ light,’ said Zyra excitedly. ‘We still may haves a chance.’
She rushed over to the door. On the wall beside it was a small control panel marked ‘airlock’.
‘I don't knows if this'll work,’ said Zyra. ‘But it's all we's got.’
‘Wot?’
‘Puts the sword o’ light into the airlock.’
‘The wot?’
‘That room,’ said Zyra. ‘And power it up.’
Tark drew the sword, slid open the panel on its hilt and hit the recharge button. It flared into life. The sword o’ light stayed in his hands. For the first time, Tark felt like he really owned it – as if it approved of him. And now he had to let it go. He felt a pang of loss as he put it down on the floor in the airlock.
As Tark stepped out, Zyra slammed the inner door shut and poised her hand over the airlock controls.
‘I just hopes this here is the rights button,’ she said, thumbing it.
With a whoosh of escaping air, the sword o’ light was sucked out of the airlock, straight into the Fat Man's starfighter. It sliced through the fuel tank's outer casing like a knife through butter.
Tark and Zyra reeled with the shock of the resulting explosion.
‘Creative enough for ya?’ shouted Zyra as she was thrown back.
Their surroundings melted away and then they were once again hanging in the grey, crackling static. And the disembodied voice was talking.
‘Payment calculated. Access to Designers Paradise granted for sixty-three hours, seventeen minutes, three seconds. Avatars?’
Tark and Zyra looked at each other, smiles spreading across their faces.
‘Tina Burrows.’
‘And John Hayes.’
‘Game environment?’
‘Suburbia.’
Tark reached out and took Zyra's hand.
Memories came flooding back – friends, family, school, shopping … ice-cream. As these experiences solidified in their minds, it was as if they had always been there – had never been taken away.
The static dissipated – as did Tark and Zyra.
PART TWO: SUBURBIA
14: An Ideal Life?
John Hayes and Tina Burrows were standing side by side in the most mundane of suburban surroundings – uniform, weatherboard houses with neat front yards and white picket fences, clear blue sky, the scent of spring flowers on the gentle breeze, birdsong in the distance. Perfection!
‘We made it,’ said Tina.
‘Yes,’ agreed John with relief. ‘We beat the Fat Man at his own game.’
‘Oh, I hope so John. I really hope so. But I can't help worrying. After all, it was his game. What if he had a way out? What if …’
‘Shhh.’ John put a finger to her lips. ‘He's gone. It's all gone. We're here now. And this is what's real. At least for the time being.’
He stroked the back of his hand gently down her cheek as he gazed at her – with her long blonde hair cascading around her shoulders, her pale green eyes, her smooth unblemished skin, and the absence of any piercings. He pulled back his hand and ran it over his own face and through his thick, wavy hair. No scars. That's what he liked best about his appearance in Suburbia. No scars. That, and the fact that he was just a little taller than Tina.
Their old lives were just distant memories. Suburbia felt like their true home. It was as if John and Tina were their true selves, whereas Tark and Zyra were merely avatars.
Tina giggled as she twirled on the spot and looked down at her clean, beautiful, fashionable clothes – a white blouse, a pale blue skirt, knee-high white socks and black leather shoes with silver buckles.
‘How do I look?’ she asked, smiling.
‘Gorgeous,’ answered John, with a laugh. He was just happy that his jeans, T-shirt and runners were clean and without holes. ‘Absolutely gorgeous!’
John smiled and leaned forward until his lips gently pressed against hers. How he had longed for this moment. A simple kiss! Something they were forbidden from doing in their own world.
They slipped their arms around each other and hugged.
Beep, beep!
The school bus pulled up alongside of them, its yellow doors swishing open.
Holding hands, John and Tina climbed aboard. There were calls of ‘Hello’, ‘Hi’ and ‘How've you been?’ as they walked down the aisle past the other teenagers. They sat right at the back of the bus. There, with their arms around each other, they gazed out of the window as their bus drove through the perfect suburban streets, until it reached their perfect suburban school.
Grey brick buildings with colourful murals. Happy students, chatting, walking, running and playing in the school grounds.
John and Tina got off the bus and went straight to their first class, Maths, with Ms Waverly, one of their favourite teachers. She was short, round-faced and always wore a warm smile. They contentedly spent the next forty-five minutes discussing algebra, their hands shooting up into the air whenever Ms Waverly asked a question, eager to answer.
Economics was the next class, with a discussion on inflation and how it impacted on the lives of people in Suburbia.
At recess, they headed straight for the canteen and bought triple-scoop vanilla ice-cream cones.
The rest of the school day flew by in a daze of interesting classes, inspiring teachers and enjoyable discussions.
As the bell sounded an end to the school day, John and Tina headed towards the school gates and the waiting bus.
‘Have a good day?’ asked the headmaster as he walked past them. He was short and balding, but with a kind face.
‘Yes!’ they answered enthusiastically.
‘Always a pleasure to have you back,’ he called.
The bus dropped them at Tina's house and they spent a couple of hours snuggling on the
sofa watching television. Then John went to his home, next door. The routines of family dinner, homework and bed finished off their day.
That night, John and Tina dreamt of each other and of a blissful eternity in Suburbia. It was the perfect end to the perfect day.
The following morning, John and Tina waited out on their street for the bus. Patches of grey cloud drifted across the sky, occasionally obscuring the sun.
‘It's a little chilly this morning,’ said Tina, shivering slightly.
‘I'll keep you warm,’ said John, wrapping his arms around her.
‘And the bus is late,’ said Tina. ‘It's never late.’
Beep, beep!
With a screeching of tyres, the bus came hurtling around the corner. It looked as if it was about to speed right by them, but the driver braked at the last moment and the bus ground to a noisy halt. They climbed on and with the sound of grinding gears the vehicle lurched on its way to school.
The late noisy bus heralded a day that was just a little odd. None of their teachers was as interesting or as friendly as they had been the previous day. In particular, Ms Waverly seemed distracted and a little dazed. When Tina asked if she was okay, she responded by giving the entire class extra homework. During recess, the canteen ran out of ice-cream. As the bell sounded an end to the school day, John and Tina were called to the headmaster's office over the PA system. It was unusual, they thought. They had never been called there before. They had never even seen inside it.
They entered the dark and dingy office to find the headmaster seated behind a large, imposing desk. His attention was on the sheets of paper spread out before him.
‘Sit, sit,’ he said impatiently, waving a hand without looking up.
John and Tina sat in the uncomfortable wooden chairs that were positioned directly in front of the headmaster's desk, and waited. The man continued to read the papers, umming and ahhing every now and then, until he finally looked up. He did not look at all amiable and friendly, as he had the previous day.
‘Well now,’ he said. ‘We appear to have a little bit of a problem.’ He glanced back down at the paperwork. ‘It seems that your grades are slipping well below an acceptable level.’
‘What?’ said John, surprised.
‘But we're good at school,’ said Tina. ‘We're always good at school!’
‘We like school,’ added John.
‘That may very well be,’ said the headmaster. ‘But you're hardly ever at school.’ He glanced down again. ‘It appears that you have been absent more than in attendance. As a result, you have missed tests and assignments. And your grades have been dropping correspondingly.’ He looked from one to the other. ‘I'm afraid that I have little alternative but to place you both on probation. You will need to do extra homework and you will need to spend recess and lunchtime in make-up classes. Oh, and any more missed days, and we will have to call your parents in.’
He returned his gaze to the paperwork, lifted his arm and gave it a little wave. ‘Dismissed!’
‘But,’ started John. ‘Yesterday you said –’
‘Dismissed!’ he repeated more firmly.
John and Tina left the office in confusion.
‘What was that all about?’ asked John.
‘I don't know,’ said Tina. ‘He's never behaved like that before. He's always been nice to us. He's always telling us how good we are.’
They walked across the school grounds, reaching the main gates just as their school bus pulled away.
‘Hey, wait!’ called John, waving his arms and running after the bus.
But the bus kept on going, down the street and around the corner.
‘The bus is supposed to wait for us,’ complained Tina.
‘Supposed to,’ said John. ‘Come on.’ He took her hand. ‘Let's walk home.’
Ten minutes into the walk, dark clouds began rolling across the sky. The wind picked up and raised goose bumps on their skin. It wasn't long before it started to rain.
By the time they got to their street, Tina and John were soaked.
‘Something's wrong,’ said Tina, as she and John stood on her front porch, finally out of the rain.
‘Maybe,’ agreed John, reluctantly. ‘But we'll work it out.’
He took her hand, held it for a moment, and then leaned in to kiss her.
‘Just what the hell do you think you're playing at?’
John and Tina whirled around.
Tina's father stood framed in the doorway, hands on hips. ‘I've just been on the phone to your headmaster,’ he said, taking a step towards John. ‘What have you been doing with my daughter? Leading her astray?’
‘Nothing, sir, we've just –’
‘Stay away from her,’ he bellowed, poking John in the chest with his finger.
John staggered back off the porch and into the rain.
‘But Dad,’ Tina protested.
‘Shut up and get inside.’
John remained standing in the rain for several minutes after the door had slammed, before finally heading next door to his own house. Inside he found a note on the refrigerator door, telling him that his mother and father were out for the evening and that he would have to fend for himself for dinner.
He dried off and made himself a sandwich. He tried watching some television, but the storm was interfering with the reception. All he could get was static. Blurry, indistinct images ghosted through the static, as if desperately trying to be seen. Finally he gave up and went to bed early. He tossed and turned restlessly for hours before finally plummeting headlong into frantic dreams in which he was being pursued by large people, or things, which he couldn't quite make out.
15: New Players
The following morning everything seemed normal again. The storm was over, the sun was shining, and John's mother had cooked pancakes for breakfast.
Tina was waiting outside when he ran out to catch the bus.
‘Hi,’ she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek as if everything was okay.
The bus arrived quietly, and on time, and they talked about ordinary, happy things, as if ignoring all the stuff that had happened the day before would make things better today. And it seemed to work.
The first few classes of the day went well, and none of their teachers said anything about make-up classes. And the canteen had plenty of ice-cream at recess. But then came lunchtime.
John and Tina were sitting on a patch of grass, under a large jacaranda tree, eating their lunch, when Tina looked up to see a strange shape in the sky. It shimmered and glowed and seemed somewhat insubstantial. She squinted into the sunlight. Was it? Was it the Fat Man's starfighter?
She quickly looked away, breathing hard.
‘What is it?’ asked John. ‘What's the matter?’
Tina looked back up to the sky. A passenger aeroplane was flying across the blue, cloudless expanse.
‘Nothing,’ she said, shaking her head.
It was at that moment that John glanced across the crowded school grounds and caught a glimpse of someone familiar.
‘Look!’ he snapped, pointing.
‘What?’
‘That guy over there,’ said John, still pointing. ‘Isn't that …’
‘No,’ said Tina, looking down and returning to her lunch.
‘I think it is.’
Tina didn't respond, instead she took a large bite of her apple.
John jumped to his feet and ran after the kid. Tina watched him go, desperately wanting to just ignore anything unusual and stick with the things that were going right. But John seemed determined to pursue this. She reluctantly followed him.
‘Stop!’ said John, clamping a hand down on the boy's shoulder and spinning him around.
The boy was taller and slimmer, his hair was shorter, his face not quite as round, his clothes not as fancy, but it was definitely him.
‘How the hell did you get here, snotling?’ asked John.
‘The name's Giles,’ said the boy, turning to go.
But John yanked him back.
‘I had my own key,’ said Giles, as if that was all the explanation that was needed. Tina approached as John stared at him. Giles sighed loudly. ‘Even without the money I would have got for the sword o’ light, I had more than enough in my account to get me here. I also searched that thief's pockets and discovered a credit stick equivalent to six hundred gold pieces.’
‘Why here?’ demanded John, still not satisfied. ‘What are you up to? Why are you following us?’
‘I'm not following you,’ replied Giles. ‘In fact, I don't give a stuff about you. I'm not in Suburbia because of you. I'm here because this is where I always come.’
‘You expect us to believe that?’ said John, shoving Giles.
‘Leave it,’ said Tina, putting a hand on his shoulder. ‘It's not worth it.’
‘I really don't care what you believe,’ said Giles, turning to walk off.
John jumped forward to block his way. ‘You're not leaving till you tell us why you're here.’
‘Why am I here?’ said Giles, stopping to look John in the eye, a mass of emotions bubbling up within him. ‘You want to know? Well, I come here because in this world I'm not a princeling. I'm just an ordinary kid. I come here because in this world I've got a family who loves me and friends who want to spend time with me. I come here so I don't have to worry about who's plotting to steal my throne or assassinate me. I come here so that I can try to forget the fact that I am personally responsible for the untimely deaths of nine of my family members. And the fact that I will undoubtedly be responsible for the demise of further siblings, cousins, aunts and uncles in order to maintain my position.’ Giles took a step towards John so that they were almost nose-to-nose. ‘I come here because it makes me happy. And you being here kind of wrecks that. Now, can you please leave me alone?’ With that, Giles turned and walked away.
‘Let it go,’ said Tina, putting a hand on John's shoulder. ‘He has as much right to be here as we do.’
‘It's just that,’ began John, ‘there have been too many strange things already. And now him.’
Gamers' Quest Page 7