Zyra scrambled backwards until her back pressedagainst the trench’s damp wall.
‘Up!’ The soldier’s voice was muffled by the mask, giving it a slurred, inhuman sound.
Zyra scrambled to her feet, eyes darting about, looking for an escape route. To one side, the trench curved away concealing what lay further along. To the other side, the muddy walls seemed to stretch on forever behind the soldier. Above, the walls looked improbably high.
‘Move!’ The soldier nudged her with the end ofthe rifle.
Zyra grabbed the barrel and yanked. The soldier stumbled, releasing the rifle as he fell to his knees. Theatrically twirling the firearm around like a baton, Zyra quickly had it pointed at the soldier.
The man tilted his masked face up at her. Zyra found it unnerving being unable to see his eyes.
‘Takes ya mask off!’
The soldier got to his feet and unhurriedly took hold of the rifle’s barrel. With a display of amazing strength he swung both the rifle and Zyra around to the other side of the trench, slamming her into the wall.
Zyra gasped as the breath was knocked out of her. Overcoming the initial shock, she fired the rifle into the man’s chest.
He didn’t move. He kept hold of the rifle and continued to stare at her with his blank, masked face. Was there even a face behind that mask? wondered Zyra. She had a sudden vision of cold, featureless flesh, moulded to the shape of the gas mask.
She fired a second time.
The soldier swung her around again, throwing her into the opposite wall before yanking the rifle from her hands. Turning it around, he nudged her with the end of the barrel.
‘Move!’ he grunted.
Zyra had no option. She began edging her way along the curve of the trench. It twisted and turned, making it impossible to see what was beyond each bend. The soldier kept poking her in the back with the rifle and barking, ‘Move!’
Zyra wasn’t sure how long they walked. The walls curved one way and then the other and then back again in a featureless, endless tunnel of mud.
Finally, the trench widened out and around thebend was an oblong-shaped area, like a little muddy room, a ceiling of grey stormy clouds rolling past overhead. And in the centre, Hope was slumped in a chair, arms and legs bound tightly, her head hanging down, eyes closed. Beside her was a second chair, empty and waiting.
‘Sit!’ The soldier pointed to the chair with the rifle. Zyra stumbled over to the chair and sat down, looking across at Hope, relieved to see the rise and fall of her chest. She was alive. Zyra sat back, glad that she had not been left alone. She looked up at the soldier to see a red blaze behind the eye pieces of hismask.
‘Magik!’ Zyra’s surprise doubled when she felt movement at her hands and feet. Ropes were coiling themselves around her ankles and wrists. She struggled, but they tightened.
The soldier grunted and walked behind the chairs.
Zyra turned as far as she could, frantically trying to keep him in view. He strode over to a door in the far wall that Zyra had not noticed. It was dark and wooden and old, set directly into the mud. It couldn’t possibly lead anywhere. The soldier yanked the door open and disappeared into the blackness beyond.
The moment the door closed Zyra looked back at
Hope.
‘Wake up,’ she hissed. ‘Hope! Wake up!’
Hope didn’t stir. Zyra stared at her, looking for signs of life. Was she breathing? Had she imagined the movement of her chest earlier? Was she dead?
‘She is not dead.’ The cold voice spoke from behind her.
Zyra twisted her head to see a man closing the door. He was tall, with a long face and skinny, skeletal fingers. He wore a grey uniform, like the soldier, but his was neater and better fitting, tailored for him rather than off the rack. The jacket had a high collar with a little gold insignia that Zyra couldn’t make out. There were stripes on the epaulettes, signifying rank, although she didn’t know what rank. And pinned to the front of the jacket were several medals. Despite the bitter cold, he did not wear a coat.
The man slowly circled Zyra and Hope, his ridiculously clean shoes making a clicking sound with each step, even though he was walking on mud.
‘You are worried for your friend with the hopefulname?’ He spoke in clipped, measured tones, as if each word was an effort to pronounce. ‘This is excellent.’
He stopped in front of Zyra. ‘She is unharmed. Sheis but sleeping. If you wish her to remain unharmed, you will answer my questions. You understand?’
Zyra nodded.
‘Superb.’
Zyra stared at the man, studying every contour of his face, every element of his uniform. Who was he? Why was it she could interact with him? Was he some sort of Outer?
‘My perception is unclouded,’ said the officer.
‘Huh?’
‘Most entities are unable to perceive you,’ he explained. ‘You do not partake in the game, so the perception of you has been clouded. But my ability to perceive is beyond most others.’ He paused. ‘Now, keeping your friend in mind, it is time for you to answer my questions. What are you doing here?’
For a moment, Zyra was tempted to answer ‘sittingin a chair’, but the officer’s cold stare dispelled that thought.
‘Nothing, really,’ said Zyra, trying to think of away to explain herself ‘We’re sort of just passing through. Travelling.’
‘Really? In a war zone?’ The officer’s face betrayed no emotion. ‘For what purpose do you travel?’
Zyra glanced at Hope.
‘Yes.’ The officer gave a single, slight nod. ‘Her life depends upon your answers.’
Zyra closed her eyes for a moment, deciding that she had better tell the truth. ‘We’re looking for someone.’
‘Outstanding! And who might that be?’
‘Well, not that it will mean anything to you, but we’re looking for the Ultimate Gamer.’
‘Ah. Now we reach the heart of the matter.’ Again,the single, slight nod. ‘How do you propose to find this Ultimate Gamer?’
‘I don’t know,’ Zyra admitted. ‘We got a note from him saying that he would find us.’
‘But he has not.’
‘No.’ Zyra lowered her head and her voice.
‘And yet you still ... hope.’
Zyra looked towards Hope, slumped in her chair.
‘Yes.’
‘Excellent. Hope makes for more determined garners. Thus, a more interesting game.’
‘Huh?’ Zyra looked back up at the officer.
‘What is it that you wish of him? This Ultimate
Gamer.’
‘Urn ... help?’
‘He will not give it.’ The officer shook his head. Zyra’s eyes lit up. ‘You know about the Ultimate
Gamer?’
‘Oh yes.’
‘Do you know where he is?’
‘Oh yes.’ The officer smiled for the first time, albeit a strained, difficult smile that looked as if it might crack the dry, papery skin of his face. ‘He is here.’ He turned to Hope. ‘You may wake.’
Hope’s eyes snapped open and her head jerked up. ‘Zyra.’
‘Hope.’
‘We’ve found him,’ she gasped.
‘You are much mistaken,’ said the officer. ‘It is Iwho have found you.’
‘You mean you’re -’ began Zyra.
‘Indeed.’ He clicked his heels together and inclined his head. ‘He who you have been seeking.’
‘But -’ Zyra looked from the officer to Hope. ‘Are you sure?’
‘It’s got to be him,’ said Hope.
Zyra stared at the officer, eyes wide. Could this really be the Ultimate Gamer? And if so, why did he have them tied up in a wartime trench? Bemusement turned to annoyance.
‘So, what’s all this about then?’ demanded Zyra,struggling to loosen the ropes.
‘It is all but a game.’ The officer spread his arms and smiled as if he really meant it. ‘Have you not worked that out yet?’
‘We’re sick of games,’ spat Zyra, getting one hand free. ‘We want out.’ She pointed to the officer. ‘And you can help us.’
‘What makes you think that I would help you?’
‘Look out!’ called Hope.
Zyra twisted in her chair, looking one way and then the other. And then she followed Hope’s upturned, panicked gaze. Above the trench, the sky was filled with VIs, all converging on the trench. So many that they blocked out the clouds, making the sky look like a giant television screen tuned to a dead channel.
‘The game is not over yet!’ The officer laughed, high and staccato, sounding as if it was a painful thing to do. ‘Not by a long shot.’
He slowly raised a hand, snapped his fingers and their surroundings were gone.
17: Testing
‘Ready?’ asked Tee.
‘Yep,’ answered Tark. Gal simply grunted.
They were each leaning up against tree trunks,
Tark and Gal holding loaded double crossbows, Tee cradling the IDD in his arms.
Tee straightened up. ‘Let’s go, then.’
The three of them stepped around the trees and out into the clearing, weapons at the ready. Two VIs hovered by the entrance to the cave, just outside the force-field. Tark and Tee both fired.
Tark’s bolt temporarily immobilised one of the
VIs.
A bright crackle of electricity arced from the tip of the IDD like a lightning strike to the other VI. It expanded as it absorbed the discharge, a balloon ready to burst. Tee was about to up the intensity and try again, when the expanded VI vanished in a blaze of light.
Tee fired again as the second VI regained its mobility. The process repeated itself - lightning, expansion, and disappearance.
‘Works,’ said Tark.
‘Seems to,’ agreed Tee.
‘Shoulds we tries it on that thing?’ Tark pointed to the cave.
Inside the cave, the static moved and bubbled, indistinct images whirling and eddying within it.
‘I’d like to try it out on a few more VIs first,’ said
Tee. ‘See what happens if I up the intensity a little.’
‘Here’s your chance,’ said Gal, looking up to the sky.
Five VIs were speeding in their direction. Tarkand Gal aimed their crossbows.
‘Leave them to me,’ instructed Tee, as he turned the dial on the IDD up one notch and fired. As the lightning struck the middle VI, the other four changed direction, splitting into two groups. The middle VI swelled, more so than the first two victims of the IDD, and vanished in a burst of light.
Tark and Gal watched anxiously as the remaining VIs combined themselves into two larger spheres and resumed their attack. Tee increased the intensity again, and fired at one and then the other.
‘That thing in there is getting bigger,’ warned Gal, gazing into the cave.
‘Time ta shoots it?’ said Tark, eagerly.
Malevolent eyes stared out from the depths of the fluctuating mass.
‘Not yet.’ Tee was staring up at the sky, a sheen of sweat across his brow.
Dozens of VIs were bearing down on them, flying in arrow formation, ready to strike.
‘Crap!’ said Gal, raising his crossbow. ‘We can’t handle so many of them.’
‘Damn the Designers,’ Tark swore. ‘Wots we gonna do now?’
‘There’s only one thing I can think of.’ Tee spun the dial on the IDD up to ten, aimed at the foremost VI and pulled the trigger.
Lightning arced through the sky, striking the leading VI. The formation froze in the air as the electricity crackled between them, creating linking tendrils of power and spreading the substance of the Interface. The VIs expanded simultaneously, merging as they grew.
The thing in the cave roiled and screeched, as ifcrying out in rage and pain.
And then the VIs were gone in one blinding crescendo of brightness. Tee squinted and held up a hand to shield his eyes, but watched every second of the destruction, while Tark and Gal turned away.
Dozens of dark, piercing eyes stared out from the cave at the three of them.
‘Now?’ asked Tark.
‘Now!’ Tee yelled.
Tark took out the remote control device that operated the force-field and pressed a button. The barrier shimmered as it switched off
Teeth gnashed and claws extended. The mass of static launched itself at them. Tee fired.
The creature howled as the electrical charge carried the pure substance of the Interface into it, slamming it back into the cave. It writhed and burbled as if trying to take on a definite shape. And it grew. A face formed within its depths. A face with evil eyes and a sharp-toothed grin.
‘Weak.’ The word emerged from the cave as a deeprumble, like the sound of a devastating earthquake.
Without hesitation, Tee slid back the panel, hit the override and fired again. He fought to hold onto the IDD as the power blazed forth.
‘Not enough!’ The words rumbled over the crackling sound of the discharge.
The energy finally dissipated, the IDD spent and useless. The face in the static solidified. It was huge and ugly and misshapen, its hate-filled eyes fixed on Tark.
‘Reactivate the force-field,’ ordered Tee.
Tark didn’t move. He stood, transfixed by the swirling static eyes.
‘Force-field!’ yelled Gal.
‘Zyra,’ the creature rumbled, baring its fangs. Tark dropped the control. He lifted his crossbowand fired both bolts. Laughter rumbled from thecave. Gal jumped forward, scooped up the control and activated the force-field.
A shimmer flickered across the mouth of the cave. The mass of sizzling malevolence grew, surging forward and pressing itself against the barrier. Sparks filled the air as claws formed in the static, scrabbling against the invisible screen.
‘You idiot!’ growled Gal.
‘Zyra,’ Tark whispered, dropping his crossbow. ‘It said Zyra.’
‘So what?’ Gal turned to Tee. ‘You see? You can’ttrust him. He’s a risk.’
‘Zyra’s in danger.’ Tark’s voice was louder and higher as he grabbed Gal by his tunic, shaking him.
‘We’ve gotta do somethin’.’
Tee placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘We’re trying.’
‘It ain’t good enough.’ Tark released Gal and shook Tee’s hand off He stared down at the ground where a small animal was burrowing its way up out of the earth.
‘He’s unstable,’ hissed Gal.
Tark glared up at Gal, ready to yell back. His words caught in his throat as his eyes widened. He bent down, yanked the little burrowing creature out of its hole and threw it at Gal.
Gal yelped and ducked. The creature slammed into the VI that had appeared behind Gal. The menacing grey ball halted as it took apart the hapless animal, giving Tee just enough time to drop the IDD, snatch the crossbow from his belt, load and fire it. Meanwhile, Tark scooped up his own crossbow from where he had dropped it, loaded it and quickly fired.
‘Unstable,’ muttered Tark, as the VI dispersed. Gal straightened up and managed to mumble ahalf-hearted, ‘Thanks.’
‘Come on.’ Tee picked up the IDD, gently took
Tark’s arm and led him away, leaving Gal to follow.
As the three of them headed off into the Forest, they could hear the creature laughing and screeching as it tried to break through the barrier that confined it.
18: Pinball
Darkness!
‘Hope?’
‘Yeah, I
’m here. I’m fine! You?’
‘I’m okay, too,’ said Zyra. ‘I’m not tied up anymore.’
‘Me neither,’ said Hope. ‘What happened?’
‘I think we jumped.’
‘How?’
‘The Ultimate Gamer, I suppose.’
Ding! Ding! Ding!
The sound of a bell echoed through the darkness.
‘Correct!’ A voice boomed around them. ‘Time to play.’ It was not a voice Zyra or Hope had heard before. ‘Our first contestant today is a has-been gamer who used to play as a thief in the game environment known as the World. When not questing she would escape to the environment of Suburbia.’
A bright spotlight shone down on Zyra. She raised a hand to shield her eyes.
‘Zyra is sixteen years old, and has been for quite some time.’ The voice was loud, brash and overly enthusiastic to the point of irritating. ‘Her hobbies include knifing people, flinging her throwing stars and admiring how she looks when she twirls around in her red leather coat.’
‘What’s going on?’ Zyra shouted up into the light.
‘Our second contestant is a born non-gamer,’ said the voice, ignoring Zyra.
A bright spotlight illuminated Hope.
‘Hope is eighteen years old, making her technically older than her kindasorta mother, Zyra. Her hobbies include dissing cheat codes, thinking she knows better than everyone else and making snarky comments.’
‘Who are you?’ shouted Hope.
‘And at the controls ...’
A drum roll echoed around Zyra and Hope before another spotlight broke through the darkness. High above them, a figure floated in a pool of light. Dressed in multi-coloured robes and wearing a ridiculously large conical hat with a propeller on top, he spun around and bowed low.
‘Give it up for ... the Pinball Wizard!’
Applause thundered through the darkness as the Pinball Wizard blew kisses to his adoring, unseen fans.
‘What happened to the Ultimate Gamer?’ asked
Zyra, looking across at Hope.
‘Still playing,’ shouted the Pinball Wizard as he waved at them.
‘Today’s game 1s pinball,’ announced the disembodied voice.
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