by Terry Schott
Sparx chuckled but stopped when he saw the look in Barret’s eye. “Life inside the simulation must have affected me deeper than most.”
Barret’s expression was serious. “Who were you on Earth, son?”
“No one special.”
“I find that hard to believe. You must have been someone famous or popular. I think it’s time to tell me.”
Sparx stared at him.
“Look, you have nothing to fear from me. I’m your father. No matter who you were or what you did, I promise not to tell anyone.”
“There were almost a billion of us inside the Sim.” Sparx tried to deflect the question. “Not many were famous, and I certainly was not. Telling you who I was would mean nothing.”
Barret chuckled. “You never know. I was someone pretty famous.”
This surprised Sparx. He had never stopped to wonder about that. “Really? Who were you?”
“Stanton Rossfield.”
Sparx’s mind went blank and his breath caught in his throat. “That’s not funny.”
“Really?” Barret smiled. “I find it extremely funny. It makes me wonder if all the rich, wealthy people from here were transferred to successful avatars in the Sim. There has always been a saying that strong people will always rise above the rest no matter how far down they are thrown. That was certainly the case with me.”
Sparx watched the man’s face. He appeared to be telling the truth. “If you were Stanton Rossfield, then you didn’t need my help to create this new network.”
He shrugged. “You knew Stanton Rossfield?”
Sparx said nothing. There’s nothing to say. If this is him, then he already knows. Has he been playing with me this whole time? Oh god, what happens now?
Barret looked sad. “Kevin isn’t in there, is he?”
Damn it! It is him.
“I suspected he didn’t make it back but when I first saw you, I hoped I was wrong. This is the price I pay for what I’ve done. They told me there would be a price and I agreed to pay it, but I never expected it would be my son.” Barret covered his face with one hand.
“He’s still in here. Sort of.”
Barret looked up. “What do you mean?”
“His memories. I can access them.”
“Do you sense a personality that is not you in there, too? Another presence wanting to speak and be heard?”
“No.”
The man nodded. “I suspected. It’s just hard to face. All you sense is residual memory from the cells in his body. Kevin is gone.”
“A lot did not make it back.”
“I know. I suppose it’s possible that your presence didn’t cause him to be lost. Maybe this was just good luck; jumping in to make the best out of a bad break.”
That we are having this conversation proves this man is Stanton. Unbelievable. “I think if he had come back then I wouldn’t be here.”
“You are right.” Barret nodded and sighed, then looked at Sparx. “I should guess, but I don’t particularly feel like it at the moment. Which one are you?”
“Sparx.” It feels strange to say that out loud.
Barret chuckled. “The best of the best. That’s some consolation at least.”
“I’m not sure what to do. I wasn’t expecting this.”
“What is it that you want to do?”
“Find a way back to Earth.”
“You think it still exists?”
“I know it does.”
“Tell me.”
Sparx told Barret about finding Earth’s frequency through the Plexus, detailing how he had surfed the energy a month ago and made brief contact with Miranda. He confessed to searching every few days and keeping track of Earth. “When I first found her, the planet was primitive. That doesn’t make sense, unless she were able to travel through time.”
“That’s not what happens,” Barret said. “They somehow reset the timeline. Every few thousand years, they put it back and allow it to move forward again. The Timeless go back and live through it all as it progresses. Are you able to maintain contact each time you look for her?”
“I can sense her, but the contact is limited. I believe that will be remedied when they develop their own Internet. If they do.”
“They will.” Stanton was confident. “You were the only one bonded to a Timeless. We were lucky to find even one of you willing to participate. It’s fortunate that you were the one to make it here. Your link to her will be valuable. Have you made contact with any of your kind on this planet?”
“No. I am the only one here.”
“What about on Earth?”
Sparx shook his head.
“I don’t think they would have survived a reset. That was the concern from the beginning.”
“I can’t believe you are Stanton Rossfield.”
Barret grinned. “I can’t believe that you’re Sparx.”
66
The General opened his eyes and lifted his head. He sat in a comfortable chair with hands tied behind his back. The bonds were not too tight; he could move his hands enough to maintain circulation. He scanned the room in the dim light, looking for anything that might help him identify where he was.
He had been knocked out during the car ride. He had woken alone in this room. Judging from his thirst and hunger, only six or seven hours had passed since waking.
The door opened and the president entered with a large bottle of water and a glass. “Good, you’re awake.” She poured some water into the glass and held it to his mouth. “Drink.”
The General gulped it greedily, knowing that it was likely drugged but not caring. Being tortured by Brad inside the simulation had taught him that it was better to drink drugged water than none.
The president held the glass while he finished it. Then she stepped back and sat down in a chair without saying a word.
After a few moments, the General squinted at her. “Aren’t you going to ask me questions?”
The president shook her head.
“What are you doing here, then?”
“Waiting.”
“For what?”
The door opened. The General turned and froze.
“She was waiting for me.” Brad sauntered in, nodding at the president and coming to stop in front of the General. “Hello, Donovan.” His voice was thick with loathing and his mouth curled upwards in a mocking smile. “I’ve been waiting for this reunion. Did you miss me?”
The General could feel his pulse begin to race as hysteria threatened to drive him over the edge of sanity. His vision blurred as panic began to flood his mind. I can’t go through this. Not again. I don’t deserve this. I was trying to be a better person. This isn’t real. It can’t be.
Brad grabbed the General’s face and tilted his chin upwards. “I see you remember our time together. That’s good, General. Very good.”
“Are you going to torture me again?” The General’s voice quivered with barely contained terror.
Brad patted his face and stepped back. “No more torture, General.” He sat down beside the president and eyed the glass. She filled it with water and handed it to him. “Thank you, Madame President.” He took a sip and looked at the General.
What’s his game? Is he saying that he won’t hurt me? Why is he just sitting there grinning at me? Questions ran through his head while the two watched him.
Finally, a beeping noise sounded from Brad’s wrist. He reached down and turned it off, then looked up and smiled. “That’s time.” He stood and approached the General, reaching forward to peel something from his temple. It stung as the adhesive pulled at the skin. Brad held the tape up for him to see. It looked like a thin silver Band-Aid with a few lights and tiny chips attached to it. Brad pulled a small plastic container from his pocket and opened the lid before gently placing the tape inside. The lid snapped closed with a click.
“That’s all we need here, General.” Brad smiled and looked at his watch. “Do you remember the little game we played when you fired me?”
“I feel we should do the same thing now.” Brad looked up from his watch and grinned. “I’m not as good at it as you were, but let me give it a try. In five minutes, my timer will go off. When that happens, I will take a knife and push it slowly through your eye and deep into your brain.”
In a heartbeat, fear, panic, and then a feeling of acceptance flowed into the General. This is it. I can’t escape death this time. He closed his eyes and then opened them.
“Don’t you want to ask me why?”
The General said nothing.
“Maybe you would like to beg me to reconsider? I could be convinced to let you live, perhaps.”
The General looked at the president. I’m not saying a word, you imbecile. If you’re dumb enough to kill me quick, then so be it. This way, my secrets will die with me.
“You’re thinking that we won’t have your knowledge if I kill you quickly,” Brad guessed. “But that’s not true. The tape that was stuck to your head these past few hours is a marvellous new technology that my friends developed. It has been reading your thoughts and memories since we installed it, storing them so that we can download and learn them at our leisure.”
The General’s eyes widened.
Brad smiled. “That’s right. We have access to everything you ever knew.”
He’s lying to get me to say something. I won’t do it. He can kill me, but I’m not letting him control me again.
“I thought that after all this time, the decades of plotting and posturing as the big man in control of it all, that you would do more than sit while the hourglass ran out on you, General. Seems like a waste to me. Not very entertaining at all.”
Brad raised the glass of water to his lips and drank. No one said a word.
The minutes passed.
Finally, Brad’s phone chirped. He stood and reached behind his back, drawing a long, thin knife as he approached the General and stared down at him with a sterile expression.
“Nothing to say? Last chance.”
He’s bluffing. I can hear it in his voice. This is just another form of torture. I’m not going to let him win.
Brad sighed. “Have it your way.” He held the blade and let it hover in front of the General’s right eye, straight and steady, smiling all the time.
Then he slid the blade deep into the General’s eye.
The scream lasted only a moment.
Silence returned as the General died, his head falling backward.
67
Melissa looked up from the computer, then glanced down at her watch.
“It’s lunchtime, want anything?”
Thorn stretched and yawned. “Lunchtime at two in the morning?”
“Do you remember eating lunch?”
“No.”
“Then it’s lunchtime.”
Thorn laughed. “Your point is fair.” He stood and walked to the closet. “I would say we can call it a day, but there are still details to finalize.”
“There is significantly more security for this event than there was for the first.”
“I know. After the press conference the other day when the General announced that the true leaders had not been with him all along, groups voiced their displeasure. He feels there is a valid danger that someone might try and attack the Gamer leaders when they come forward this time. He doesn’t want some zealot with a weapon to ruin what we are building.”
“I still don’t trust him.”
“Neither do I, Melissa, but I think our best course of action is to play this game and be ready if he turns on us.”
Melissa put her jacket on. “I guess you’re right. Where would you like to go eat?”
“I think our options are limited at this hour. Enzo’s is a good choice.”
“I agree.”
They took the elevator to the ground floor and walked out onto the main street. Melissa turned the collar of her jacket up to protect her from the crisp coolness of the night and blew out a breath to see if it was visible, which it wasn’t. “Not too cold, want to walk?”
“Sure.”
The two walked in silence, their footsteps matching. The night was quiet and peaceful, something that was rare in the daytime of the heavily populated city.
Two blocks later, they approached a corner and Melissa’s instincts perked up. “Streetlight is out.” She nodded at the patch of darkness ahead.
“Happens from time to time,” Thorn said. “Remember when there were no lights just a few months ago?”
“I do.” She came to a stop, holding her hand out to stop Thorn as well. “This doesn’t feel good.”
“Want to go back?”
“Yes.” As they turned to leave, shadows emerged from the darkness. Ten figures dressed in black clothes moved towards them, fanning out in a semicircle. Each held either a black club or long knife.
“Run?” Thorn asked.
“In a minute.” Melissa looked behind her. No one was coming at them from that direction, yet. “When I move, you head to the far corner.”
“Why?”
“So you don’t get hurt. It’s my job to protect you.”
Three of the attackers moved in, one lunging towards her while the other two tried to go around to get to Thorn. She struck fast, the heel of her hand connecting with the bridge of her attacker’s nose. There was a solid crunching sound and the man crumpled to the ground. She spun to intercept the attacker closest to her and saw both of them lying on the ground.
Thorn smiled.
“What the—”
“They must have slipped.”
Melissa looked at the other attackers. They had retreated a few steps. Five of them began to reach behind them. “They have guns.”
“Follow me.” Thorn took off running towards the alley on their left.
Melissa followed, close on his heels but running as fast as she could to keep up. Who taught him how to fight like that and run like the wind? This old man is full of surprises.
They ran for the next few minutes, sprinting through back alleys and turning both left and right into adjacent exits until Melissa was not sure where they were. She had no time to scan the surrounding roofs and doorways as they sped by. Thorn was not slowing down.
He came to a sudden halt in front of a door and grabbed a ring of keys from his pocket, finding one and inserting it into the lock before giving the knob a quick turn and opening it. “Inside, and don’t say a word to anyone. I will do the talking.”
Melissa stepped through the door and felt a tingling sensation bathe her body as she crossed the threshold, causing the hair on her arms to stand up. They stood in a long, dimly lit hallway. Closed doors were placed at equal distances on either side as the hall ended in darkness twenty feet ahead of them. Thorne walked purposefully forward and stopped at the fifth door on the right. He selected a different key from his ring and inserted it into the lock, twisting the knob and opening the door in one smooth motion.
They walked into a small room with dark grey walls and a grey concrete floor. A small metal table sat in the middle of the room with four ragged-looking chairs. A single faded light bulb hung from a wire in the ceiling, hissing as it emitted barely enough faint light to illuminate the room.
One of the chairs was occupied. An old woman with a ragged coat and droopy-brimmed yellow hat sat cleaning her fingernails with a small knitting needle. “What’s up, Sammy?”
“I was hoping you could tell me. We just got ambushed on the way to dinner.”
“Poor things.” She still hadn’t looked up from working on her nails. “Good thing they underestimated you and didn’t send enough to finish the job.”
“Yeah.”
“Well.” She put the knitting needle on the table
and stood up. “Let’s get you to someplace safe while we try and figure out what’s going on, shall we? Where do you want me to take you?”
“Barret Saxon’s house.”
The woman nodded and traced a line in the air. As her finger moved, a bright white light appeared. When she had completed the large rectangle, the light formed a bright doorway. She stepped back and indicated the portal with a flourish. “There ya go, young man. Tell Barret I said hi, will ya?”
Thorn approached the portal and stopped. The woman leaned forward and he gave her an affectionate kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, Lizzy, you’re the best.”
“I really am.”
Thorn stepped into the light and disappeared.
Melissa nodded at the woman as she walked towards the portal. She stepped into the light and Lizzy spoke to her.
“Take care of him, Melissa. Things are about to get tricky and he will need your help more than ever.”
Melissa tried to stop and ask the old woman what she meant, but the light pulled her in and the room disappeared.
A moment later, the old woman waved her hand. The doorway closed with a whoosh and she resumed her seat at the table, humming while going back to work grooming her nails.
68
Addisyn woke to the gentle sounds of her alarm clock. She stretched her arm from beneath the warmth of the covers and waved her hand over it, triggering the snooze.
I’m going to be late for work. Then she remembered where she was. Nope. I have no job to go to. I’m a kid living with her parents on a strange world which is my home even though it seems like a foreign land to me.
She turned onto her back and stared at the ceiling. Day three. Or is it five? Aw, who cares. The real question is how can kids do this over and over again without losing their minds? If I play the Game for three more years how many more lifetimes will I have to experience?
“Maybe I should stop.” Saying the words out loud made the thought real. She continued to lie there, memories from past lives tumbling through her brain, especially memories of her most recent life.