A Game of War Season One Amazon

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A Game of War Season One Amazon Page 8

by Michael Cairns


  It was Tulson's turn to chuckle, shaking his head. He sat back in his chair and held his hand out to her, still shaking his head slightly. She looked up at Stem, wondering exactly what she was going to see, but he just smiled and motioned towards the hand. She rested herself against the side of the desk, not yet sure how much effort this was going to take.

  She gently took the hand, double taking as she realised that there was only 3 fingers and thumb. This wasn't all that rare in the engine, but that was normally because someone had lost one. Tulson's hand looked like it had always been this way. She looked up at him and he grunted.

  "Yup, born like that. Never really bothered me too much though."

  His voice and face faded away as she went inside. He was hiding no illness and seemed well, until she got to his mind. The same abhorrent, liquid shield prevailed, and she felt her awareness slipping off, like trying to get a grip on a nut tucked somewhere awkward. She focused, forcing her mind to spread out until she could wrap his thoughts and feelings up, enclosed within her. Then she began, slowly, slowly, to pull at the shield. She had described it as oily before, but it was behaving more like rubber, peeling away in strips that shook and quivered before fading away. Every strip she pulled away felt like a wet sheet, ungainly and resisting her every step of the way.

  Despite everything happening in her mind, or his mind, she could feel her body reacting, heaving as she tried to rebel against the sheer wrongness of the filth she was stripping away. She felt her mind getting tired, a headache beginning behind her eyes. As she worked, she felt her understanding growing, her control getting stronger. It occurred to her that there had to be an easier way to approach this.

  Despite the horrible feeling of the slime, it didn't have a sense of purpose, of being someone. It just lay, inert, around the brain. She plunged her imaginary fingers in again, but instead of pulling outwards, she sent herself in, her essence diving into the horrible stuff. She felt it shrink away, like a slug with salt and she spread out, pushing herself through it. Wherever she went, the slime receded and, she realised, shrank. Re-energised, she chased the last of it until it vanished entirely.

  She felt Tulson's brain begin to twitch, pathways opening that had never been used. It wasn't the same as she and Stem had experienced, this was slow and slight, but it was happening nonetheless.

  She came back to herself and looked down at the man sat in front of her. He was confused, his eyes flicking around and forehead furrowed. Stem gently touched her arm and she turned to him, smiling.

  "I did it, I think. No, I know, I could feel it work."

  Stem grinned back then looked down at Tulson.

  "Hey man, how you doing?"

  They waited, watching as his eyes still moved nervously before finally settling on them.

  "I'm a slave, right? How am I a slave? I mean, what the hell's going on?"

  He looked from one to the other, fists clenched and eyebrows raised. Stem looked at Ally, who shrugged, then stepped back, leaving him to do the talking.

  "This is gonna sound weird, but the Lord has some kind of mind control. It's in control of everyone on board. We've all been living in this kind of alternate reality where this is just what life is and it's all good, you know?"

  The man looked at Stem as if he had three heads.

  "OK, so first off, those things are our partners. They're freaky as anything, but why would they do that? Secondly, how the hell do you know?"

  "Why would anyone make a slave of someone else. I don't know all that much about the Lords, 'cept they came to Earth and all of a sudden they seem to be running the place. Now, if humans were still in control, don't you think the game, you know, us getting killed for entertainment might just be causing a fuss on Earth?"

  "SO what, you just figured this out and decided it's right?"

  Stem looked at Ally. She stepped forward, suddenly shy.

  "It just sort of happened to me. I got really angry and it just sort of happened."

  Stem stepped in, avoiding any further questions down that route.

  "So, after what's just happened to you, can you really doubt it?"

  Tulson looked from one to the other, nodding grudgingly.

  "That's a fair point. But, just, what the hell?"

  Stem nodded.

  "Yeah, that was my response too."

  She watched the exchange, pathetically grateful that Tulson wasn't asking any more questions about how they had got free. She felt exposed already, just being outside the engine. Being recognised as different, standing out; she really wasn't sure how she'd handle that.

  She grabbed Stem's arm and he turned to her. She saw on his face the zeal and passion he'd had when they first met, the belief that things could change and felt herself swept up in it, her pulse suddenly racing.

  She stepped back, hand on her chest, taking deep breaths. The mind reading thing was amazing but the sharing the emotions was going to take some getting used to. He was looking at her and she grinned sheepishly.

  "Look, I don't want to just free him and leave, but we need to be subtle about this. We can't make a scene with this, we just can't, I don't wanna--"

  "Its cool, don't worry, I know. We need to keep underground, but I want to talk to Tulson and find out what he wants to do. We don't even know what we're gonna do yet and if he gets noticed or something, it could go horribly wrong."

  "Hey Stem, uhh, Ally? If you have a plan or something, I'm in. Just say the word."

  She turned to him, smiling her thanks.

  "We don't. Not yet, but we will have. I know it's gonna really suck, but could you just carry on as normal please? You're the first person we've managed to free like this and we've gotta be really careful."

  He nodded, apparently relaxing a little.

  "Whatever you say, just so long as we do something. My life, I can't believe this, I really, just..."

  He trailed off, staring at a spot in front of him and shaking his head. Stem put a hand on his upper arm and gave him a gentle shake.

  "We're gonna do something man, don't worry about that. Just be careful, ok?"

  They left the reception and headed back out into the corridor. Stem was still buzzing, she could tell from the way he bounced as they walked back towards the engine. His energy stood out in stark contrast to the people they met, even the rushing ones were subdued and meek. This was the way it had always been, so how had she not seen it? But then, the people on the videos from Earth had that same listless thing, even the kids.

  A sudden thought struck her that the one person who hadn't been like that was Moira. Whether it was losing the people she loved, or being like her and Stem, Moira had had a real passion, real energy. She hadn't made it back from the great game and now more than ever it made her heart hurt. That feeling of being alone, surrounded by people, was stronger than ever.

  "We need to get back to the engine, and you need to be less excited. You're standing out like a sore thumb."

  He turned to her, eyes blazing again

  "We can do this Ally, we can really do this."

  She jerked awake, sweat pouring from her face. She leaned out of the cot, looking through to where he sat, eyes fixed on the screens and hands tapping on the arm rests. She sank back and stared at the white ceiling above. They had been able to do it, yes they had.

  It had begun with Tulson, but as the days went by so more and more people were freed. At first she'd been reluctant. As their awareness grew, so she'd got more and more nervous about being found out, every day expecting someone to grab her arm as they passed and that voice to climb into her head. Stem had seemed confident, but she could see it, the fear she didn't want to talk about. They had both taken to looking over their shoulder, jumping at any sound. Sleep was becoming difficult, the endless worry of whether they would still be themselves when they woke up, keeping it away until exhaustion set in.

  But it didn't happen and she found herself being swept up by Stem's enthusiasm, his sheer belief in what they were doing.
She still didn't sleep well, and she didn't feel all that good either, but the jumping subsided and the pleasure at using her new-found power helped to dull the ever-present paranoia.

  She closed her eyes, feeling the warm tears begin to run down and soak the pillow. So they'd made for themselves a tribe, the free peoples of the Homeship, and rejoiced in their new-found powers. One became fifty and fifty became a hundred and within a month there were so many they could no longer gather together in one of the canteens. They had messengers criss-crossing the ship as they planned and dreamed. She could remember so well how it had felt. But despite the euphoria, she also felt the loneliness. They'd dreamed of finding others like them, others who could read and free people, but as they themselves freed more people so the hope dwindled. What they had was rare, possibly confined to just them, at least on the Homeship.

  She swung round and put her feet on the floor. Resting her head on her hands she stared into middle distance, waiting for the energy to rise and move into the cockpit.

  Chapter Ten

  She eased off the sticks, letting the Vale swing in a gentle arc. She wasn't sure what effect the veil would have on the ship, and she didn't want to get too close. Then they were flying alongside it, the dark of space filling one screen and a sea of confusion on the other. The sensors they'd added would tell her if there was any break in the gas and she relaxed, one hand keeping the ship steady as they cruised.

  Stem was once again sleeping, and her world had shrunk down to the screens and sticks. She'd had moments in the last few days when the isolation had suddenly hit her and she'd begun to shake. The understanding that there was nothing and no one for thousands of miles, no safe Homeship to head back to, or planets nearby, was terrifying. They were alone, wrapped in steel and sorcery, a speck against the vast fabric of the universe.

  She'd been trying to come to terms with the events that they had set in motion back on the Homeship. She needed, somehow, to get to grips with it before they went through, and faced whatever it was that lay beyond the veil. She wanted so badly to cry for her father, but whenever she thought about him the tears just dried up. Her stomach knotted and she found herself tensing every muscle she had, fighting the urge to strike out.

  It was that feeling of rage that had dominated the work they did on the Homeship. Despite the strange changes that had come over them, the release they experienced and the powers that had manifested; despite all that wonder, still she had been vengeful and bitter.

  They had built an army, or the beginnings of one, and things might have been different had they waited, had they just been patient. But people spoke, people just as angry as them and she'd suddenly felt responsible. She barked a laugh, devoid of humour and put her face in her hands, letting the ship slide sideways.

  There'd been a meeting, a few of them cramped into a corner of the engine room, far from the bustle of the corridors. Some of the slaves who were now thinking for themselves were getting impatient, angry just like she was.

  "I don't care, I really don't. My parents and grandparents spent their lives under some kind of spell, lorded over by that thing. Why should we wait? There's one of him on this ship. How many of us are there now, one fifty, two hundred?"

  Her head was thumping. It hurt a lot of the time, the thoughts of the freed muttering inside her head like the canteen trolley filled with knives and forks, rattling and crashing. The man speaking was another gamer, one of the two that had made it back with them from the great game. Only two of the ships in the hanger had come back to their Homeship. Twelve out and two back. She winced, squeezing her eyes closed and rubbing her temples. Another of the group spoke, a woman they'd found working alone in the kitchens, with a high voice and hands that wouldn't stay still.

  "He's right. You're right, we shouldn't wait. We've got more than enough people. We get up onto the top deck and it can't stop us. We get there and stab it with enough metal and it dies. Where's the problem?"

  A chorus of agreement rose from the assembled planners and she winced again. Stem had been trying desperately for the last half hour, and the days before this one, to ease the tide of venom that was sweeping through the free. She leaned back against the pipe, watching him as he raised his hands, begging for quiet.

  "Haven't we been through this though? What happens if it has guards, or other people up there? We have no idea what to expect. And besides, we told you what happened to Ally at the ball. The Lords have power, you know that. If we wait until we are sure--"

  He was cut off, shouted down by both speakers and stepped back, looking at her helplessly. She could feel the stares on her again. They stopped short of saying what their faces showed so clearly. 'She's only sixteen, of course it affected her'. She could hear them think, not clearly, but she got the jist. The eyes she showed to Stem were just as helpless. The woman spoke again, and she felt her heart sink.

  "Why did you free us? Why did you show us what the world was really like if you wanted us to just sit down and shut up? What's the point of all this if we don't do something?"

  This last was shouted and she felt something in her snap. She stepped away from the pipe, jaw aching from grinding her teeth. She spat the words out.

  "Fine, ok, we'll do something."

  She could feel his eyes burning into her back and she turned, inviting him to say something, anything. He looked at her and she felt her frustration mirrored there, and her helplessness. He shrugged and she turned back around, feeling suddenly very young and exposed. She was met with faces savage in their intent, eyes burning and fists clenched.

  The plan was much as the woman had described it and so they stood, a crowd that filled the corridor, knives clutched in hands. She felt like a soldier at the head of an army of wolves, desperate to get their teeth bloody. Stem was standing a little distant from her, but it felt like miles. She needed to hold his hand, to feel him. She missed dad.

  There were two lifts from the service decks up to the top. They were rarely used, and not at all by most of them. They had however freed a man, Joine, who had been up to the top. He was cleaning crew and had given them a pretty good idea of what to expect.

  The lift slid open and they crowded in. She was pushed against the back wall and felt a moment of panic, before the rush eased. Standing on tip toes she counted heads. They had fitted about 50 people in, so with the other lift as well, it wouldn't take long to get everyone up there. In the back of her mind, she knew this was too easy, but there was no way to stop now. As soon as she'd opened her mouth in the meeting, she'd been carried along, helpless to do anything but keep afloat.

  The lift stopped and they piled out, bursting into a huge, domed room. The slaves looked very small beneath the ornate arches that soared above them, and the beautiful statues that stood around the periphery. The style was similar to the observation deck where she'd first seen the creature they were here to kill, elaborate and daunting. She felt the other freed recoil slightly, a little of the bite leaving them.

  The other lift opened and the room began to fill. They waited, restless, casting anxious glances at the door at the far end of the room. It, too, was huge, and she was reminded again of the thing she'd seen on the stage, hulking and oily. In a rush she felt her courage, what little remained, drain away and she was suddenly shaking, twelve again and terrified. The people stood around her were also nervous, the quiet conversations dying away to a strained, edgy silence. She tried to take deep breaths, putting one hand to the knife that once again hung from her belt. Her breathing slowed and she was feeling slightly calmer, then she jumped as the lifts returned and more freed came pouring out.

  Now, as a mob, they crossed the room and shoved open the huge door. She was near the back, letting them surge forward as she cast around for Stem. She couldn't see him and felt the fear rise up again. Finally she reached the door, standing aside to let the last few come past before stepping in. Stem must have gone in with the group and she looked first at the people gathered together before her eyes rose and to
ok in what stood at the far end.

  She registered the drop in volume, as the angry, muttering voices were suddenly mute. She was aware of the room around her, the gleam of polished wood and metal catching her eyes, but all of that faded when she saw the Lord. The same corpulent flesh, the feeling of wrongness and more than anything, those huge, glittering eyes.

  She was aware that she'd dropped to her knees, her heart racing to burst and her head filled with a thin, keening wail. Then she realised the sound was her, something like a scream only tiny and helpless. Their army, the freed, had dropped to their knees across the room and she could still see it, incapable of turning her head, or closing her eyes.

  With an effort she didn't think possible, she wrenched her body down until her face was buried in the floor. She lay, panting, waiting, in the heavy silence. The voice, like a father demanding 'favours' at bedtime, slipped into her head.

  "My people, what has happened?"

  There was no fear, no real curiosity, just a slight twinge of amusement. She knew then, or at least let herself understand what perhaps she had always known, that this was a huge mistake. They were never going to win, a few hundred angry humans. They were going to die and it was her fault.

  "One among you has lied, told you things, such terrible things, so sad that you would believe them over me, over your Lord, your father."

  This last word was drawn out and she sobbed, her nails digging into her palms. Some small part of her brain registered that the alien had said 'one among you'. That meant it didn't know which one, it wasn't all powerful, or as aware as they'd thought. But that part of her cowered beneath the waves of fear flowing around the room.

  "You have raised arms and hatred against me and so shall you be punished. The war will always need more bodies and you are so kind to volunteer."

  There was a pause and she lifted her head, peeked out from between hair that had pulled loose of its usual tie. The others were all knelt upright, stiff and staring at the Lord. She realised that she was hidden from view and something like reason returned. She was also aware that something was inside her head, twists of dark, oily smoke. She focused on it, feeling it wrap around her brain then skip away, unable to grab hold. It was trying to get her back, to infect her, but it couldn't. Maybe, there was a chance.

 

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