Gamers' Challenge

by George Ivanoff

  Zyra and Hope took a step back as the cold eyes of the officer bore down on them.

  ‘Perhaps this is the real me?’ The officer stretched out his arms to either side. ‘Perhaps not.’

  The officer was no longer there. In his place wasthe soldier with the gasmask.

  ‘Better?’

  A soft red glow emanated from behind the lens of the gasmask, and then the man in the shabby suit from the cafe replaced the soldier. He took off his hat, revealing lank, greasy hair, and took a bow.

  ‘Bobby’s Cafe,’ whispered Hope.

  ‘Yeah, all right,’ said Zyra, putting her hands on her hips. ‘We get the picture.’

  ‘Do you?’ The man’s hair thinned, and a clump of it fell out. His clothes aged, becoming threadbare and torn. His eyes sank into his skull as his face thinned, the flesh stretching taut. Sores blossomed on his skin.

  ‘Do you really?’ He smiled, revealing rotting, broken teeth. Black ichor oozed from the corners of his mouth as he moaned. ‘Brains.’

  Hope took a step back, but Zyra stood her ground.

  ‘Yes,’ she insisted. ‘Really. We do understand what you’re capable of We get it. And you’ve been following us around.’

  The zombie grabbed the bottom edges of hisjacket and flipped it up over his head. As he did so, it turned into a cowl, which extended itself into robes. ‘Om. Oh-but-I-am-hav-ing-so-much-fun. Om,’ chanted the monk.

  ‘Oh, would you stop being so childish,’ snapped Zyra. ‘And before you go changing again, we know you were probably the unicorn as well.’

  ‘Fine!’ Bobby stood before them once more. Ahorn grew from the middle of his forehead, spiralling out.

  ‘Enough!’ yelled Zyra.

  ‘Spoilsport,’ grumbled Bobby, the horn gone.

  ‘Okay,’ said Hope. ‘So you can take on pretty much any shape you like?’

  ‘There’s almost unlimited avatars to choose from,’ said Bobby.

  ‘So, is it because you don’t like who you really are,that you have to pretend to be other people?’ asked

  Zyra.

  ‘Oh, like you can talk - Tina!’ Bobby stuck his hands in his pockets again, hunching his shoulders.

  ‘That was different,’ said Zyra. She folded her arms defensively. ‘I was playing the game without knowing it. It was what I was supposed to do. Now that I know it was all just a game, I don’t play and I don’t take on avatars. But you - you don’t have to.’

  ‘I want to,’ said Bobby. ‘It’s fun. Sometimes I even play as me. But it’s more fun to use an avatar. I like to play. And I love to win.’

  ‘Don’t you get tired of winning all the time?’ asked

  Zyra.

  ‘I don’t always win.’ A dark expression washed over Bobby’s face.

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Sudden Death Pinball doesn’t count because you CHEATED!’ Bobby lowered his voice again. ‘I’ve lost before ... once.’

  Bobby glared at Zyra, hatred filling his eyes as his body shimmered and bloated, expanding like a balloon. Folds of flesh gathered around his neck and chin as his clothes enlarged to meet the needs of his growing body, transforming into a dark suit and red cravat.

  Zyra gasped.

  The Fat Man lumbered forward, lightning quick despite his bulk, and clasped a doughy hand around Zyra’s neck.

  ‘So fragile,’ he wheezed, his triple chin waggling as he spoke. ‘So very fragile.’

  He began to squeeze.

  21: Ready to Devour

  Tark and Tee emerged from the Forest, flanked by Gal and a group of armed Outers.

  There were no VIs in the clearing. The static creature had assumed a vaguely human shape. It stood at the mouth of the cave, just inside the force field, arms extended. Above each upturned palm floated a set of three squares. Little static pellets fired back and forth between the sets, as the squares dodged back and forth. One of the squares failed to dodge a pellet, and it disintegrated.

  ‘Wot’s it doin’?’ whispered Tark.

  ‘I have no idea,’ Tee answered.

  The figure closed its hands into fists, crushing the remammg squares.

  ‘You can’t win,’ said the figure, its voice hollow and echoing.

  ‘Says you.’ Tark clutched his rapid-fire crossbow tighter.

  ‘Every move you make. Every step you take.’ Agrim mirthless laughter filled the air around them.

  ‘Brings you closer to me.’

  ‘You know what to do?’ said Tee, as he flicked the override switch on the IDD.

  ‘Ya bets.’ There was a grim determination in

  Tark’s voice.

  ‘Pawns moving across a chessboard.’ There was more laughter from the figure.

  ‘Force-field,’ ordered Tee, taking aim.

  Tark fumbled with the remote control device attached to his belt, dropped it, picked it up, and finally pressed the appropriate button. Gal rolled his eyes. The barrier shimmered out of existence and Tee fired.

  Tee was barely able to hang on to the IDD as thedischarge arced through the air to the creature. The energy crackled with a bright intensity that made Tark and the other Outers shield their eyes. The creature screeched and writhed, caught in the fiery, electric grasp. And then everything went silent.

  For a moment, it was impossible to tell what had happened. The static was frozen within the almost-human shape, arms thrown back, head tilted crookedly. Then it began to pulsate - slowly at first, then faster. Growing, it took a lumbering step forward.

  ‘I am ready,’ it boomed. ‘Ready to devour.’

  ‘Move,’ called Gal. Tee stepped aside as Gal and his team fired two rounds of static-tipped bolts. The creature laughed as the barrage melted into it.

  ‘Tark!’ Tee yelled, cradling the empty IDD in one hand, holding up the other.

  Tark tossed the remote control to Tee, aimed hisrapid-fire crossbow and pressed the trigger. A volley of bolts flew at the creature. It held up one misshaped hand and they ricocheted back towards the Outers. Tark continued to fire as Tee dropped to the ground and the Outers scattered. One of them cried out and hit the ground, a bolt in his leg.

  ‘Stop!’ yelled Tee.

  A bolt slammed into the barrel of the rapid-fire crossbow, knocking it from Tark’s hands.

  The creature continued to grow, the static overflowing its human shape.

  Tee hit the remote control and switched on the force-field.

  A shimmer rippled through the air, catching the creature in its path. Sparks erupted and the creature howled; its growth halted.

  ‘I doubt that’s going to hold it for long,’ said Tee, getting to his feet.

  ‘Now wot?’ asked Tark.

  ‘We need to get back to base,’ Tee answered. ‘And prepare for an attack.’

  He turned to Gal and the other Outers. The wounded man was being helped to his feet. ‘You come back with me. The rest of you, stay here and keep an eye on that thing.’ He met Gal’s steely gaze.

  ‘Do not engage it. And report any developments.’

  ‘I’m staying,’ announced Tark. Tee opened his mouth to protest, but Tark continued. ‘There ain’t nuthin’ I can do ta ‘elp ya prepare.’

  Tee glanced at Gal.

  ‘Yeah, I knows,’ said Tark. ‘He’s in charge.’

  ‘Stay safe.’ Tee clapped him on the shoulder before heading off with the wounded Outer.

  Tark picked up the rapid-fire crossbow, checked that it was still useable, and offered it to Gal. ‘Don’t has no effect on that thing in the cave. But if ‘em VIs came backs.’

  ‘You keep it,’ said Gal.

  ***

  Tark stood a few paces from the other Outers. Theychatted amongst themselves in nervously hushed tones, but he
silently stared at the creature. The air around it shimmered as it struggled against the force field. His eyes were glued to the eddying static but his mind thought only of Zyra. Where was she? Was she safe? Would he ever see her again? He couldn’t bear the thought of life without her.

  ‘I luvs ya.’ He mouthed the words quietly. Laughter boomed from the creature, breakinginto his thoughts.

  ‘Devour!’ it screamed and the force-field wavered.

  ‘Devour everything!’

  ‘That don’t sound good,’ said Tark.

  Tark, Gal and the Outers watched in horrified fascination as a hole appeared in the shimmering air.

  The creature poked a misshapen finger into the gap.

  ‘It’s breaking through,’ shouted one of the Outers. Static poured through the hole like a viscous liquid, pooling on the rocky ground. The creaturewithin the force-field diminished as the pool grew.

  ‘Shoot it!’ Gal ordered.

  ‘Tee said nots ta -’ began Tark.

  ‘Shoot it, or get out of the way,’ said Gal, loading his crossbow. ‘It’s fighting against the force-field. And it’s pushing its way out. It’s probably weakened. This may be our last chance to stop it.’

  Gal aimed his weapon and fired. The other Outers followed his lead.

  The bolts had no effect and the river of greycontinued to flow through the hole. Tark reluctantly aimed the rapid-fire crossbow.

  ‘Give me that!’ Gal snatched the weapon from Tark. ‘If we can’t stop it, you make sure to warn Tee.’ He tossed his communicator to Tark.

  Without waiting for a response, Gal strode forward and opened fire on the expanding pool of static. The bolts dissolved into its grey depths.

  The creature behind the force-field shrank intonothingness as its substance escaped through the hole. The static on the ground undulated and surged forward, gurgling over Gal’s booted feet.

  Gal screamed. He saw his boots and leggings dispersing as the static rose to cover them. He forced himself to lift his eyes and continued firing.

  ‘Stay back!’ he called. Tark hesitated.

  One of the Outers, a young woman with short blonde hair, ignored Gal’s order and dashed forward to help. Pulling off her cloak, she wrapped it around her hands and tried to wipe the static off Gal. The cloak stuck to it and moments later the woman’s arms were covered in spreading greyness.

  ‘Help!’ she cried, struggling in vain. ‘My arms! Ican’t feel my arms!’

  ‘Run!’ Gal yelled over his shoulder. The rapid-fire crossbow lost its solidity moments before the static rippled over it. ‘Run!’ The static rushed into Gal’s mouth, drowning his words. Seconds later he and the woman were gone - consumed.

  Tark retreated to the Forest, fumbling with the communicator, trying desperately to recover from what he had just seen.

  ‘Comes on,’ Tark called to the remaining Outers, who were still gaping at the roiling static. ‘Gets back!’ His voice snapped them out of their shocked inaction.

  The Outers turned to run, but it was too late. Awave swelled across the expanding surface of the static and rushed at them. They wailed like panicked children as the wave crashed down. It engulfed them, wiping them away with frightening ease, and rolled on towards Tark.

  Haunted faces seemed to loom up out of the rushing swell, dead eyes fixed on Tark, their mouths wordlessly calling for him.

  Tark ran. He stumbled over a tree root and crashed to the ground, the communicator flying off into the undergrowth. He picked himself up and struggled on for several minutes before allowing himself to glance back over his shoulder. What he saw made him stop and gape.

  The creature was huge, and still growing. An amorphous blob of grey, a black maw in its centre. Images rippled across its surface. Faces, bodies, creatures - deformed and distorted. They extended from the conglomeration as if trying to escape, then snapped back to be swallowed into the swirling mass.

  The static heaved across the landscape, consuming everything in its path. Animal life and vegetation disappeared into the expanding darkness at its centre. The only good thing about the feasting was that it slowed it down.

  ‘Devour!’ The word boomed through the Forest. Tark ran. He did not look back. But the hauntingsound of destruction followed him.

  22: Bobby and the Fat Man

  ‘Stop!’ yelled Hope. ‘Leave her alone.’

  Hope grappled with the Fat Man, trying desperately to get him into a headlock. He knocked her aside as if he were swatting a fly.

  ‘Bobby, no,’ gasped Zyra, as she thrashed about, trying to escape his grip.

  ‘It would be so easy to snap your pretty little neck,’ wheezed the Fat Man, lifting her off the ground.

  ‘Bobby, please.’ Zyra’s voice was now little more than a hoarse whisper. ‘You’re not him. You’re Bobby. You’re the Ultimate Gamer.’

  ‘Talk about cheating,’ screamed Hope, as shestumbled to her feet. ‘You’re not even playing now. You’re just killing her.’

  The Fat Man froze. His grip loosened a little and he looked into Zyra’s green eyes, the whites spiked through with bloodshot rivulets.

  ‘I’ve used so many different avatars that I sometimes forget who I really am.’ He let go and Zyra dropped to the floor.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Bobby stared down at Zyra, no trace of the Fat Man persona remaining. ‘Each avatar has its own personality traits. Some are stronger than others, and the Fat Man is very strong.’ His voice became almost a whisper. ‘He doesn’t like to lose, either.’

  ‘Doesn’t that bother you?’ said Hope, helping

  Zyra to her feet.

  ‘Nah,’ said Bobby, all smiles again. ‘Makes it more exciting.’

  ‘You little snot-rag,’ said Zyra, glaring at him and rubbing at her bruised throat. ‘You’re sick if you think this is exciting. We’re not playing now and you could have killed me.’

  ‘Everything’s a game,’ said Bobby. ‘You guys trying to find me. Me tracking you down. You trying to get out of the environments and into the real world. Games. They’re all games within games.Just without the Designers in control.’

  ‘You think that trying to get out is a game?’ asked

  Hope.

  ‘Yeah. You want to get out, but you can’t. I can get out, but I don’t want to. I could let you out ...’ Bobby paused, looking at the eager expressions on their faces. ‘But where’s the fun in that? The only way I’ll ever let you out, is if you play against me and win.’ His eyes widened and he yelled, ‘Without cheating!’ His voice calmed instantly. ‘Others have played against me, trying to win their way out. None of them succeeded.’

  Bobby saw the look of surprise in Hope’s eyes.

  ‘No, you’re not the first. It’s not as if you’re special or anything. There are non-garners in other environments, you know. Hundreds of them. And they all want out. Sometimes a bunch of them will find a cheat code that mentions me. They come looking for me. I challenge them. We play. I win. They die.’

  ‘Why, you little-’ began Zyra.

  ‘Don’t.’ Hope put a hand on her shoulder. ‘He’s trying to get you riled up. He wants you to do something stupid, like attack him or something. That would be a game to him.’

  Bobby clasped his hands behind his back andfeigned an innocent expression.

  ‘You wouldn’t be so smug if it was you in danger,’ said Zyra.

  ‘I’m always in danger,’ said Bobby, suddenlyserious. ‘Being the Ultimate Gamer isn’t about safety. I’m not part of the Designers’ plan. I’m not wanted.’

  ‘So, what have you got to be worried about?’ asked

  Hope. ‘What could possibly be a danger to you?’

  As if on cue, two balls of static appeared over the top level of the pinball game.

  23: Preparations


  The Outers’ base was in a state of panic as Tark ran in. People were bustling about, shouting at each other and carrying equipment. Tee stood in the centre of it all, calling out instructions and answering frantic questions from passers-by.

  ‘Yes,’ he said to Chuck. ‘Break out all the weapons.

  Arm as many people as you can.’

  Tark weaved his way through the throng, making his way towards Tee as quickly as he could.

  ‘What happened?’ asked Tee.

  ‘It gots out,’ answered Tark.

  ‘Where are the others? Where’s Gal?’

  Tark shook his head. ‘It gots ‘em. It’s huge. It’s ... eatin’ up everythin’. I thinks it’s coming this way. We is done for.’

  ‘Dear, dear, dear,’ said the professor, scurrying up behind them. ‘Are you sure it’s going to attack us? I mean, it may have other plans, other intentions, other priorities. It may, it may.’

  ‘I has gots no idea,’ said Tark. ‘But it ain’t friendly.’

  The professor nodded. ‘Yes, yes, I see, yes.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Well, now, I have some other experimental weapons that we might be able to use.’

  ‘What about the force-field?’ asked Tee. ‘It held it in the cave for a while. Can we somehow redirect the force-field from around our base and use it to hold the creature? Then maybe we could attack it with everything at once.’

  ‘Hmm.’ The professor scratched his head. ‘Maybe, maybe, yes, maybe. I need to go have a sit down and think about it.’

  ‘Sits down?’ sputtered Tark. ‘Ya betta makes it quick!’

  Tee’s communicator beeped and he lifted it to his ear.

  ‘Rylan here,’ came a voice, broken up by hissing and crackling. ‘I’ve reached the top of the cliff I can see ...’ His words were swallowed up by interference.

  ‘I’m losing you,’ called Tee.

  ‘It’s massive.’ Rylan’s voice was back. ‘It’s tearing through the Forest. Swallowing it up!’ And then it was gone agam.

  ‘Rylan!’ shouted Tee. ‘Can you hear me? Is itheaded for the base?’

  Rylan’s muffled voice was barely audible, now. ‘We don’t stand a chance.’ The connection went dead.