Game World

by George Ivanoff

  From the side of the path, Hall hacked and slashed at the roots, until RandomizarBian was able to pull himself next to Hall. He lay on his back, eyes closed.

  ‘Thanks.’

  And then everything was gone.

  ‘What in the world was that?’ demanded Maheera, storming into the room as Hall opened his eyes, Mager, as always, a few steps behind. ‘You DO NOT allow the enemy to survive. You DO NOT show weakness.’

  ‘Do not!’ agreed Mager.

  ‘I know him,’ said Hall, sitting up. ‘And mercy is not weakness.’

  ‘The object of these games is to win,’ said Maheera, the frustration evident in her voice.

  ‘WIN!’ bellowed Mager.

  ‘Would you shut up!’ shouted Maheera, turning on her adjutant. ‘I’ve had about enough of you. One more word and I’ll bust you down to corporal. Now go do something useful.’

  Eyes wide and sad, like a disgraced puppy, Major Mager, slunk away.

  Maheera turned to Hall, straightening her uniform. ‘You win by defeating your opponent. These are basic military tactics.’

  ‘Would you stop it with all the military stuff?’ insisted Hall. ‘I am not your soldier-boy. You can’t order me around like that guy.’ He pointed to Mager. ‘And besides … I did defeat him.’

  ‘You have not defeated your opponents until you have killed them,’ said Maheera. ‘That is the way it works. That is the way it has always worked.’

  ‘Yeah?’ said Hall. ‘Well, if I didn’t win … how come the game finished?’

  ‘That’s …’ began Maheera. ‘It’s because …’ She stopped, apparently lost for words.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ asked Hall. ‘Run out of pre-prepared military sayings?’

  ‘This has never …’ She stopped again, hand going up to her earpiece. ‘Wait. What?’

  Her brow creased. And then she was all bluster.

  ‘You’re going back in,’ she announced.

  ‘What? Why?’

  ‘Don’t ask me how or why … because I honestly do not know or understand. But …’ She regarded Hall with something like awe and respect. ‘You’ve been levelled up.’

  ‘I have?’ Hall didn’t quite believe it.

  ‘Yes.’ She pointed to the bed. ‘Lie down, we’ll put you straight in.’

  ‘Can’t I rest first?’ asked Hall. ‘I’m tired after the last game.’

  ‘No. The Prime Minister wants you to go right away. He’s eager to see how far you can take this. He says that –’

  ‘I can speak for myself.’ The Prime Minister’s voice boomed through the room. ‘Hall, ignore any advice that you have been given by the Field Marshal.’ Hall saw Maheera’s face tense. ‘Follow your instincts. They have brought you this far. They may take you further. Good luck.’

  Hall returned to the bed and closed his eyes.

  Black.

  Light flared, the grid formed, and a world was sketched out.

  Hall stood at one end of a massive arena. Around the outskirts, in high stands, were onlookers, their features obscured in the semi-darkness. By contrast, the expanse of the arena itself was bathed in light.

  At the opposite end stood a familiar figure.

  RandomizarBian.

  He lost the last game, thought HallsOfAwesome. Why has he levelled up?

  Hall waved.

  There was no response.

  A mirrored wall slid up from the floor to his right. It ran the length of the arena from him to his opponent. His reflection stared at him.

  His HallsOfAwesome avatar was broad and muscled, tall and powerful. He wore armour and carried a sword. He was a warrior.

  But he didn’t really exist. He was a mirage – a reflection of all Hall’s insecurities; something to hide behind.

  I don’t need to hide, thought Hall. Not any more. I need to be me!

  The image melted away. And Hall was gazing at himself. His real self. Short. A bit podgy. A nerd.

  It felt right.

  Whenever he played, he always competed as HallsOfAwesome. Perhaps it was time to change all that.

  The Prime Minister had said. ‘Follow your instincts’. His instincts told him it was time to be himself.

  Turning to the arena, he saw RandomizarBian staring at the mirror.

  But he didn’t change.

  RandomizarBian drew his sword.

  Another mirrored wall sprang from the ground, bisecting the arena and blocking Hall’s line of sight to his rival.

  He took a step forward and another wall rose behind him.

  He whirled around.

  More walls.

  Hall was in a maze, like a carnival House of Mirrors.

  Oh well, here goes. He set off at a jog.

  As he went, he kept seeing movement from the corner of his eyes. He’d look one way, then the other. Everywhere he turned, he saw his own face. It was unnerving.

  He increased his pace to a run, following the maze, going left and right as he reached corners, until …

  BANG!

  He ran straight into a mirror. Staggering back he thought he caught a glimpse of the reflection laughing at him.

  Hall continued on. But now the images in his peripheral vision laughed and taunted. Until he came to a dead end. This was not like being in a carnival. It was not fun. It was scary.

  The image in the mirror stared at him. It was HallsOfAwesome. But he was still Hall.

  I don’t need you any more, he thought.

  He balled a hand up into a first and beat it on his chest. ‘This is me!’ he shouted. ‘The real me!’

  The mirror exploded as someone burst through it. Hall ducked and cowered to protect himself from the shards of glass.

  RandomizarBian stood before him, sword held high.

  ‘You win!’ said Hall.

  ‘Not yet.’ RandomizarBian swung his weapon at Hall.

  Hall dodged, the blade smashing the glass behind him. Falling to the floor, he gashed his hand on a shard of glass.

  RandomizarBian moved to strike.

  Hall held up his hand. The drops of red reflected multiple times in the splintered bits of mirror around them.

  ‘Kill me here,’ he said, ‘and you really kill me.’ He looked up into his opponent’s eyes, and for a brief moment, they were the eyes of a frightened child instead of those of a warrior.

  Is this the real person behind the avatar? wondered Hall.

  For the first time, Hall understood that his opponent was perhaps going through exactly the same emotional struggles as himself. Hall was just a kid, pretending to be a tough-guy, using an avatar to cover up his real self. RandomizarBian was probably doing the same thing. But right now, looking into his eyes, Hall thought he may be making a connection. He felt certain that the kid behind the warrior understood him. That he might even reveal his true self.

  But then RandomizarBian’s expression darkened, his eyes hardened and became again, those of a warrior.

  There was a tense moment as Hall wondered what would happen. How would his opponent react?

  The sword came crashing down …

  Digging into the floor beside him.

  Hall let out a loud breath of relief.

  ‘Get up.’ RandomizarBian held out his hand to Hall.

  Hall took it.

  Everything disappeared.

  Hall sat up. ‘Well?’

  ‘Wait.’ Maheera was staring into the distance, hand on her earpiece. ‘We have a situation. The Prime Minister wishes to see you.’

  There was a distant rumbling.

  ‘Situation?’

  ‘Need-to-know.’

  As they left, they found Major Mager standing just outside the door, a tray of pink sprinkle-covered donuts in his hands.

  ‘I made myself useful,’ he said.

  Maheera groaned and stalked off, leaving the Major behind.

  Silently, she escorted her frustrated charge to the Parliamentary Hub. ‘I shall leave you here. I must go and prepare –’

  ‘N
o, Field Marshal,’ said the Prime Minister, as Hall entered. ‘I wish to see you too.’ She hesitated for a second before following.

  ‘Congratulations, Hall,’ said the Prime Minister, only his head visible in the box. ‘You have been levelled up.’

  ‘But I lost that game,’ said Hall.

  ‘You may have lost,’ said the PM, ‘but you lost it well. You convinced your opponent to show mercy. Perhaps that has always been the ultimate aim?’

  ‘So it’s back into the game?’ asked Hall.

  ‘Not exactly,’ said the PM. ‘You have been levelled up to the final stage.’

  Maheera gasped. Hall could hardly believe his ears. The final stage. What did that mean? Again, he had that mixed feeling of fear and gamer excitement.

  In the distance, Hall heard the muffled sound of what may have been an explosion. But all his attention was now focused on the PM.

  ‘The CP is, at heart, a gaming computer. And the End Game is the final level. Complete it, win it, and the CP will have reached the end of its programming – its purpose will be over. But … if it wins, then it will have control of everything. Humanity will become redundant.’

  No pressure! thought Hall.

  ‘You are to go to the Palace of Light.’

  Hall’s heart skipped a beat. The Palace of Light?

  He knew that’s what he’d seen on the horizon from the flying car. That need-to-know place that tugged at his insides. Just thinking about it now, made him yearn to go. Would it be the way home? If so, maybe he wouldn’t have to play the final level … wouldn’t have to fight RandomizarBian again?

  ‘The Field Marshal will take you there now,’ continued the PM.

  ‘With all due respect, sir,’ Maheera interjected. ‘We are –’

  ‘Under attack,’ said the PM, his voice weary. ‘Yes, I know.’

  ‘What?’ Hall’s heart thudded.

  ‘My duty is to lead our forces,’ said Maheera.

  ‘No, Field Marshal,’ said the PM, firmly. ‘The machines have already broken into this facility. Now that Hall is fighting with us, they will try to kill him before he can get to the final arena. If they succeed, our fate is sealed. So he is the priority. You will escort him. You will keep him safe. Let the Major lead the forces.’

  ‘Seriously,’ said Maheera. ‘You have met the Major, haven’t you?’

  The PM ignored her attempt at humour. The circuit wall behind him slid back to reveal a secret passage. ‘Take my private transport. The enemy are moments away.’

  The sound of not-too-distant gunfire and explosions made Hall jump.

  ‘But what about you, sir,’ asked Maheera.

  ‘If Hall can make it through the final level, I will be redundant,’ said the PM, a gleam in his eyes. ‘So I might as well make my last moments count.’

  With a click and hiss, the PM’s entire box opened up.

  The old man was sitting in a chair. Every last part of his flesh was covered in metal and machinery. ‘I have been preparing for this.’ His wires and tubes fell away as he stood up and raised an arm. Machinery whirred and clanked, as a gun emerged, forming around his extended hand.

  ‘I have a few tricks up my metal sleeve,’ he said. ‘I will buy you some time.’ He gave Hall a wan smile. ‘You must play through it all in order to realise your potential … all that you can achieve with your imagination.’

  Hall heard more gunfire; closer now. Then banging on the door.

  ‘Quickly,’ said the PM. ‘Go now. I shall hold them off.’

  ‘With me,’ commanded Maheera, as she headed for the escape route.

  Hall regarded the Prime Minister one last time. He wanted to say something. Something important and meaningful … but no words came.

  Instead, he nodded and followed the Field Marshal.

  As he ran along the metal-lined corridor, he heard laser-fire erupting behind him.

  The Prime Minister’s personal transport was more like a spaceship than a flying car. It was sleek and shiny and streamlined, with red racing stripes and a spoiler. No wheels. It was all thrusters and hover pads. If Hall wasn’t so scared, it would be really cool.

  Maheera took the driver’s seat and Hall jumped into the front passenger seat, fastening his seatbelt.

  ‘Going manual from the get-go?’ said Hall.

  Maheera didn’t answer. She buckled up and stabbed at the controls. The wall of the underground garage slid away to reveal a launch tube.

  Hall was slammed back into his seat as the transport took off, shooting up through the tube. It emerged from the end as if it had been thrown into the air by a giant’s hand.

  ‘So we’re safe now?’ squeaked Hall.

  ‘I wouldn’t count on it,’ said Maheera, as reflected light blazed in the windscreen.

  With a low, guttural THRUM, the transport was slammed forward, flipping over and over as a wave of force battered it from behind.

  Hall’s head spun as the transport tumbled and everything outside blazed white hot. But his belt held him in his seat.

  ‘What was that?’ cried Hall, as Maheera regained control of the vehicle.

  ‘That was an antimatter explosion,’ said Maheera, voice unsteady.

  ‘Seriously?’

  ‘Quite serious.’ Maheera’s voice took on a cold edge. ‘The entire Parliament of Humanity has just ceased to exist.’

  ‘What? Why?’ Hall pressed his face up to the side window, trying to look down. There was nothing there. Silicon City had been levelled. He leaned his forehead against the glass and closed his eyes.

  ‘The Prime Minister said that he would buy us some time,’ said Maheera. ‘I am now left to carry out his final orders and hope that his faith has not been misplaced.’

  Yeah, thought Hall, no pressure at all!

  They spent the rest of the flight in silence. What was there to say?

  Hall was alone with his thoughts. Confused thoughts. He still didn’t understand it all. Somehow everything didn’t quite add up. But he couldn’t put his finger on it. It was like he was missing a few very important pieces of a complex jigsaw puzzle.

  He gazed out of the window, watching the distant point of light get bigger. Despite the horror of the antimatter explosion, he felt a distinct thrill about their destination. The strange tugging was reasserting itself. And he kept thinking of home.

  As they got closer, he could make out the details. It was a palace made up of geometric shapes – cubes and prisms; spheres and pyramids; cylinders and cones. It had the haphazardly cobbled together appearance of something a child might construct out of building blocks. Giant building blocks … that glowed from within.

  The Palace of Light! With a massive dome in the centre, an impossibly tall tower somehow stretched up from its apex.

  The nearer they came, the more enthused Hall got. There was a feeling, an odd fluttering thrill, deep inside him. An unexplainable, nagging need to get to this place. The Palace of Light.

  As they approached, the roof of one of the smaller domes pulled back, and Maheera piloted the transport down into the shape.

  Inside was an empty landing bay – a rectangular platform in the centre of the hemispherical area. The roof was closing up as they disembarked, encircling them in a chamber with walls that glowed softly with a pale green light. It was just the right size for their transport.

  ‘Now what?’ asked Hall. Now that he was inside, the feeling had subsided. It hadn’t gone completely, but it was no longer pulling at him.

  ‘No idea,’ said Maheera.

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Do you still not realise the immensity of this situation,’ snapped the Field Marshal, turning on him. ‘This is the final level. This is the end of the war. No one has ever made it to this level. The Prime Minister has gambled everything – and I do mean absolutely everything – on getting you here.’

  ‘But why did he think I could do this?’ asked Hall. He didn’t understand what was going on. Despite the explanations, none of it made all tha
t much sense to him.

  ‘The truth?’ said Maheera. ‘I don’t know. I’m just a soldier with a fancy title. I follow orders without question. When my Prime Minister – the leader of my people – says we must do something, I make sure it gets done. Even if I don’t understand why.’ She paused. ‘It is my job … my duty to get you to the final stage.’

  Two discs appeared beside them, each big enough for one person to step on to.

  ‘After you,’ said Hall.

  ‘Together,’ insisted Maheera.

  Hall watched her as she approached the disc and he stepped onto his at the same time. Particles of light whirled around him, then dissipated.

  He was somewhere else. And he was alone. Where’s Maheera? he wondered.

  He was in an empty room, walls glowing softly, as in the landing bay. What are they made of? He touched one. It felt solid and insubstantial at the same time, as if a good, strong push could make your hand go through it. And it vibrated with energy.

  As he took his hand away, the surface became mirrored and he could see himself. His clothes were different. He was dressed in a grey skin-tight body suit, with fluorescent lines of red accentuating his shape.

  ‘Ugh!’ Hall groaned. He stood side-on. Seriously? They put me in a onesie? Why would anyone want me to wear this? And how do I go to the toilet?

  Hall stared at his own puzzled expression. Toilet? I haven’t been since I got to this world. And I haven’t eaten or drunk anything either. Weird!

  He stepped away and the mirror slid back to reveal a display wall full of weaponry. Hall gawped at it.

  Pistols. Rifles. Energy weapons. Cross-bows. Bows and arrows. Hand grenades. Knives and daggers of various shapes and sizes. An array of swords, rapiers and other pointy-ended things. A battleaxe. A bazooka and a mini rocket-launcher.

  They all had glowing red edges. Again with the colour coding. Someone’s gone nuts with the fluoro tape.

  Hall reached for a futuristic-looking gun … then hesitated.

  He didn’t want to hurt or kill anyone. He didn’t want to take a weapon … but what if he needed it?

  Indecision froze him.

  He was about to go into a game. If his opponent was RandomizarBian, he was certain he wouldn’t need a weapon. But if it was someone else? If only there was some way of finding out.