by Tania Hutley
“You won’t have a chance unless you let me give you a few tips, so why don’t you just say yes?”
“Because I don’t know what you think you’re going to get out of it.”
“I want to help you. Is that so hard to understand? Do you want Brugan to win?”
“Of course not.”
He puts his spoon down and looks a little sheepish, like he’s about to make an embarrassing confession. “Listen Rayne, I play professionally.”
“What?”
“You’re looking at last year’s Hellspawn national champion. A hundred thousand credits in prize money.”
My stomach sinks. I’m up against a pro gamer? And I’d thought Cale would be the easiest competitor to beat.
“A hundred grand?” I repeat. I had no idea the prizes were that high for gaming competitions.
“I know what you’re thinking.” He screws up his nose. “There are people starving and they give away all that money for playing a vReal game. It’s not right.”
That’s not what I’m thinking. I don’t care how much he’s won, except it tells me I’ve underestimated him. “What’s Hellspawn?” I ask.
“It’s an RPG, first person shooter hybrid. You start as a dead soul and have to move up through the demon ranks by killing other demons...” I still look blank and his explanation trails off. “Anyway, I can help you in the vReal, and in return you can help me.”
“Help you how?”
“You have skills I don’t. Let’s be allies, at least for now.”
“What skills do I have?”
He hesitates, then picks up his spoon again. But instead of taking another mouthful of cereal, he jiggles the spoon between his finger and thumb. “It’s obvious you’re from Old Triton. The others are saying you were working in a factory. Is it true?”
I tense at the question. I shouldn’t be surprised they’ve speculated about me. Rayne’s not a sinker’s name, but Sentin was right and occasionally floaters can fall, literally, to the bottom of the city. Some starve before they can find work. Others end up like Rayne. A few get lucky and find a place in a factory.
“I’m good in the vReal,” Cale says when I don’t answer. “But that game is virtual. The Skins are real, and reality never goes as well for me as games do.” His gaze stays on me, direct and true. The spoon in his hand has stilled. “I’m not prepared for this competition. Compared to you, I’ve had it easy. I’ve never even been in a fight.”
“So?”
“I think you can help me.”
“Because I’ve had to fight?”
He finally scoops up another spoonful of cereal. “Exactly.”
I shake my head. He was embarrassed to tell me he was a gaming champion, but all trace of shame disappeared when he admitted he wasn’t ready for the competition. For anyone else in the world, it would have been the other way around, but weirdly, his take on things makes me like him a lot more than I want to.
Cale is a mystery, but he doesn’t seem dangerous. Not like Sentin.
Heaven help me, I think I’m even starting to feel comfortable around him. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t have any problem meeting my eyes, and I’ve never seen him flinch when he looks at my face. He acts like my scars aren’t there.
“I don’t understand you, Cale,” I say truthfully.
“There’s time.” He’s about to put the heaped spoon in his mouth, but pauses. “You’re not going to eat?”
“Not hungry,” I admit.
“Then why don’t you get into your vReal suit while I finish this?”
In spite of my misgivings, I do what he says. Doctor Gregory wrapped the anti-magnetic bandage once around my eye, but by stretching it, I can fit it twice around. I secure it a lot tighter than she had it, hoping that’ll help.
And once I’m in my suit I also wrap a towel around myself so I don’t look naked. Cale looks bemused when I walk back into the rec room wearing a towel over my suit, but doesn’t mock me for it.
Dropping the towel at the last minute, I climb quickly into the vReal and manage to get it going. I’m bracing myself to get swept off the cliff and feel that searing pain through my cybernetic eye again, when I hear his voice in my helmet.
“You can skip the intro if you want, Rayne.”
“I can? How?”
“Just say, ‘Skip intro’.”
“Why didn’t Doctor Gregory tell me that?”
“She probably doesn’t know the shortcuts. I mean, she’s pretty old. I doubt she even plays.” His voice sounds like he’s fighting a laugh. “Anyway, I’m a much better person to give you pointers. National Hellspawn champion, remember?”
“Skip intro,” I say. Sure enough, the wind vanishes, the cliff dissolves, and I find myself standing on the white snowy plain with five Skins in front of me. As soon as I’ve chosen my leopard, the arena appears.
Instead of climbing the tower right away, I pace around, gazing up at it. I keep catching glimpses of movement, shadows flickering across surfaces.
“Tell me about the metal tower,” I say. “But just because I’m asking doesn’t mean I’ll agree to help you in return.”
“Well, its AI is sophisticated.” I swear I can hear the grin in his voice. “And most events are randomized to make them unpredictable.”
“The tower thinks?”
“That’s right. The structure is made up of thousands of components, all of which have a simple electronic brain. They’re networked together so each piece can work as part of the collective. It’s programmed to do a number of things, depending on where you are on the structure, but there’s an element of randomness. If you jump on the same beam each time, you’ll keep getting a different reaction.”
I frown, trying to understand. “So the bugs are bits of the tower?”
“Exactly. Every nut, screw and bolt has its own basic electronic brain. The bugs form themselves spontaneously.”
“They make themselves up? And the chains came alive because they saw me coming? I didn’t see any eyes.”
“The tower’s covered with electronic sensors. And it’s networked, remember? Every piece of it knows exactly where you are.”
Great. Now I really don’t want to jump onto it. The thought that a giant tower of steel parts is going to feel me walking on it and figure out how to throw me off is creepy.
But this is what I’ll be facing on the day of the contest and I need to learn how to beat it. To win, I’ll have to make it to the top. My eye is starting to hurt, but I ignore it. I can do this. I have to do this.
“What’s the best way to get up the tower?” I ask.
“As fast as you can.”
“So helpful,” I mutter. Then, “Here goes.”
I leap onto the structure. This time, instead of stopping to judge my next move, I keep going, leaping from beam to beam.
In spite of double-wrapping the bandage, pain stabs through my eye each time I jump. The pain is strong enough to throw me off my stride, and one of my leaps falls hopelessly short. I stretch out in mid-air and manage to catch hold of a beam with my front claws. They’re sharp enough to dig into the metal, but my weight lands hard on my front legs and shoulders.
Clinging on with only my front claws, I hang from the beam, swinging in space. Should I even be doing this? What if I break my eye? I’ve already lost my band. If I lose both my eye and the contest, I’ll be left with nothing.
More importantly, if my human body is blind in one eye, will my leopard still be able to see with both eyes? Maybe my attempt to get an edge in the competition will end up seriously disadvantaging me.
I shake my head at myself. No time to worry about it while I’m dangling from a beam. I’m in the vReal now. Nothing to do but get myself back on the metal and to the top of the tower.
Can I haul myself up? I claw at the air with my back legs like I’m dog-paddling through water and heave with all my strength.
My back paws are almost on the metal when the beam makes a loud groaning noise that�
�s too loud to have been caused by my weight. The sound startles me and I miss my grip with my back claw. I drop back, dangling from the beam by my front legs again.
The groaning gets louder. A few inches from my paw, a rivet flies out of the metal like a bullet. It whistles past my head and hits the beam behind me with a sharp crack.
There are metal rivets spaced along the edge of the beam. I stare at them in horror. Will the structure fire the rest at me?
Another groan and the next closest rivet bursts free. I duck my head just in time for it to miss me.
The next one’s underneath my paw.
Though I’m already scrambling away from it, the rivet flies out too quickly and my paw’s still over it when it fires. Sharp pain sears through my right paw. Blood sprays out, hot and wet over my fur.
One paw isn’t enough to hold my weight, and my claws scrape off the beam.
I drop five floors. The landing sends searing pain through my eye, making me groan with pain.
“Game over. You made it to level five of one hundred and sixty levels. Your time was three minutes and ten seconds. You scored 5 points. Would you like to play again?”
I already hate that voice.
“No,” I say. Then “Shit.”
“Are you all right?” asks Cale.
“I’m coming out.”
As soon as I pull the helmet off, I flex my right hand, examining it. Of course there’s nothing there, not a mark, let alone a hole where a rivet tore through it. I’m not hurt. And my eye has stopped hurting now too.
“That was quick,” says Cale, holding out my towel. “What happened?”
I shake my head, wrapping the towel back around my suit. Truth is, I’m disgusted with myself for doing so badly. I need to stop letting myself be distracted by pain and try again until I beat the damn thing.
But my hand... I don’t know, it just felt so real.
“Was it the Kraken?” he asks.
“The what?”
“You know, the big creature with all the tentacles. Starts appearing about level fifty.” He pauses for me to say something, and when I don’t, his eyes widen. “Tell me you’ve seen the Kraken. You must have made it up that far?”
Instead of answering, I tear the bandage off my bad eye and squeeze it like it’s to blame. My chest feels tight. Level fifty? How did he get that high so quickly?
“That’s not a great sign.” His voice softens. “How are you going to do it for real if you can’t play when the game is fake?”
“When it’s real, I’ll get to the top.”
He raises one eyebrow. “You sure?”
I grit my teeth. “Watch me.”
Chapter Fifteen
Sentin hasn’t told anyone I’m an impostor. Not yet. But I’m determined to find out more about him, to figure out how much of a danger he might be.
After breakfast, when we’re allowed in the training room, the others transfer into their Skins and go straight to the never-wall.
As usual, getting into my Leopard Skin fills me with energy. My disappointing session in the vReal fades away, replaced by a feeling of being invincible. I can’t wait to see how well I can climb the never-wall, but instead I hang back and wait until the others are on the wall, leaping and clawing their way up with grim determination.
Now’s my chance to talk to the doctor, while she’s watching them climb.
“Hey, Doctor Gregory.” I nod my leopard head toward the silver wall. “Happy with how it’s all going? Everyone doing okay in the Skins?”
“Excellent, Rayne. But you haven’t tried the never-wall yet?” She sounds distracted. Her gaze flicks down to the tablet she’s holding and she makes some notes before looking back up at the wall, watching the others. Good. If she’s distracted, hopefully she won’t wonder why I’m asking questions.
I sit down to make myself seem smaller and less obtrusive, if that’s possible. The doctor isn’t short, but I feel enormous next to her. I could probably take off her head with a swipe of one paw—not that I ever would.
“I do want to try the never-wall. But I was wondering if you were worried about what the competitors would be like? I mean, before we turned up. The contest was a random draw, wasn’t it? You could have been saddled with anyone.”
“Not completely random, as you know.” She shoots me a quick smile, flashing her dimples. “But yes, we’ve been lucky. All five of you have impressed me immensely.”
My ears prick toward her. Good thing she’s not paying full attention to me, or she’d catch my curiosity. If only I could ask what she means by the contest draw not being random.
“So we’re all doing okay in the Skins?” I ask instead.
“Absolutely. You’re exceptionally well suited for the contest.”
“Our backgrounds, you mean?”
“That’s part of it.” She makes some more notes on her tablet.
With my leopard’s heightened senses, I can’t hear any suspicion in her voice.
“What is it about our backgrounds, do you think?” I ask.
“Well… an example would be that Brugan and Aza are both athletes, which means they’re aware of their own physicality. That makes it easier for them to adapt to a Skin.”
“Athletes?”
“Haven’t they told you?” She hesitates, and now I have her full attention. I can detect faint changes in her scent. She smells wary. “I suppose they won’t mind me talking about their achievements,” she says slowly. “It’s public knowledge.”
I flick my ears forward, lowering my head to look as small as I can. “I’m sure they won’t mind.”
Her gaze goes back to the competitors scaling the wall. “Well, both are outstanding in their separate disciplines. Aza’s a gold-medal gymnast, and Brugan plays professional loopball.”
“And Sentin?”
“Sentin’s not as physical, but I understand he’s the youngest student ever to achieve a doctorate in military tactics. He went to university here in Triton.”
“Military Tactics?” That’s the last thing I’d have guessed. “Is he with the army?” A lot of soldiers were reassigned to stomper duty after the Welcon riots, but if we end up going to war with Deiterra, that’ll change fast.
“Oh, no. He’s Deiterran.” She shoots me a sideways look as though it were a silly question. “But he moves well, don’t you think?” She nods to where Sentin’s scaling the wall. “His center of gravity is quite different from yours. He hugs the wall more, see?”
I grunt my agreement, too distracted to say more. The contest draw can’t have been random at all. They just happened to get two sports stars, a military genius, and a pro vReal player? No way. It must have been rigged.
Wonder what Rayne’s skill was? Whatever they expect from me, I can only hope it won’t be too obvious when I fall short.
The doctor glances at me again. “It’s only natural to be curious. But if you want to know more about the others’ backgrounds, you should ask them directly.”
Sentin jumps off the wall and turns to look at us. Perhaps he senses we’ve been talking about him. For all I know, his hearing could be so good he might even have heard us. And his reptile eyes are probably just as sharp as his glasses, helping him to see the secrets I want to keep hidden.
“Has anyone been asking about me?” I ask the doctor, pitching my voice low.
“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t say anything they couldn’t easily find out on the net.”
Wish I could do a search to see what the net says about Rayne, but without a band, I’m blind.
“Who’s been asking about me?”
She shakes her head. “As I said, being curious is natural. Are you going to climb now, Rayne? Or did you want to try something new?”
“New? Like what?” I’m instantly wary. The climbing wall’s sure to be a big enough challenge, and finding out who I’m really up against has shaken me.
“I can show you how to use the battle bot.”
“The what?”
&nbs
p; “Come on.” She leads me to the large silver circle set into the floor. It’s close to the wall and roped off with a rubber cord running around it. The circle looks like it’s made from the same silver stuff as the never-wall.
Against the wall is a locker. The doctor opens it and takes out a silver metal skull.
it has cybernetic eyes, newer and more high-tech than mine. They look like real eyes with pale blue irises, and it’s only my sharp leopard vision that lets me glimpse the circuits hidden underneath.
“The battle bot can take any form,” says Doctor Gregory. “Watch.”
She puts the skull down on the silver circle and it triggers movement on the floor of the boxing ring. The silver floor turns to liquid. It flows over and under the skull, covering it and building a body to support it. It’s like silver water pouring itself upward to create a silver person.
The skull becomes a human head. Ice-blue eyes stare out of a featureless face. Its body is a plain metal mannequin, bigger than a regular human, about the same size as Sentin’s Skin.
“This is the battle bot,” says Doctor Gregory. “It’s made out of the same nano-particles as the never-wall.”
“It fights?”
She nods. “The nano-particles will give way under pressure, so you won’t get hurt when it hits you. I can set the bot to automatic mode, and it’ll be controlled by a sophisticated AI. Or, you can—”
She cuts off as I turn to the training room door. Over the noise of the others panting, grunting, thumping and clawing up the never-wall, I’ve caught the click and swish of the door opening.
It’s Director Morelle.
What’s she doing here? Has she discovered I’m an imposter?
My body is stiff, except for my tail twitching back and forth, a reflex action that feels so natural it’d be an effort to stop. I flare my nostrils for the director’s scent, but all I get is a sharp floral perfume, the tang of a chemical that must have been used to clean or press her navy suit.
Underneath that is a hint of shoe polish and whatever hair products she uses to make her bobbed hairstyle so sleek and perfect. I can’t catch any hint of her body excretions to detect what she’s feeling, especially because Max is by her side, his stride arrogant, arms swinging and boots clomping. The closer he gets the more his smell overwhelms everything. His scent makes my nostrils burn. It screams hostility.