Trapped in the Games Grid

by George Ivanoff

  You stuff the floppy disk under your shirt and go straight home. Now, how are you going to check the disk? Your laptop doesn’t have a slot for it. Neither does your parents’ computer.

  You remember your dad has a bunch of old computer equipment in the garage. You go and investigate. Sure enough, there’s an old disk drive.

  Plugging it into your laptop, you insert the floppy disk. The drive makes strange whirring sounds. Your screen goes green and the same information that was on the Alien Invaders game now fills your computer.

  You press the escape key. Nothing happens. No matter what you do, the computer won’t respond. You’re afraid that you’ve broken it. You try to unplug the disk drive but you get zapped with an electric shock. You snap the screen down, but green light still spills from the edges.

  You sit and stare at the computer.

  There’s a crash from the other side of the house. You race out of your room to find the front door open and people in black suits barrelling into your home. They push past you and spread throughout the house until moments later one of them carries your laptop and disk drive from your room. She’s followed by another with your parents’ computer. They even take all the old equipment from the garage.

  As the black-suited people leave, a woman with dark glasses and flaming red hair stops beside you.

  ‘You were discovered with secret government plans stolen in the 1980s,’ she says matter-of-factly. ‘We have had an internet trace on these plans for a very long time, and now they miraculously show up here.’ She leans in closer to you, lifting her glasses to reveal cold crystal-blue eyes. ‘Assuming you don’t want to be thrown in prison for the rest of your life, you are going to tell me where you got them.’

  You do. You blab the whole story. And she leaves without even closing the door.

  When your parents get home, they are furious.

  ‘You should never have taken the disk,’ says your dad.

  You’re grounded for two months.

  Finally you’re allowed out again, so you head for the games arcade. But it’s no longer there. There’s a hairdresser in its place.

  What was on that floppy disk?

  You are thousands of light-years from Earth with no idea of how to get home. What option do you really have? You go with the other Starfires into battle.

  Minutes later you are in the thick of things– lasers, death rays, explosions and ships all around you in a confusing cacophony of sight and sound. You manage to blast a few enemy ships before your Starfire is hit, spinning off through the battle in an out-of-control frenzy.

  You try desperately to stabilise your fighter, heaving on the joystick and randomly hitting at the touch screen controls. You spin out from the battle into a nearby asteroid belt. As you careen through the maze of gigantic rocks, you fire your blasters hoping to destroy any asteroids that get in your way.

  A stray blaster shot glances off an enormous hunk of rock, spinning it to one side – where it crashes into another asteroid, which then crashes into another, which crashes into another…

  Domino effect!

  It’s not long before a deadly cascade of gigantic rocks thunders into the space battle, smashing into the Dan-Ko armada’s mothership. The enemy base of operations erupts in an enormous explosion that destroys the majority of the armada – as well as half the Starfires (bit of bad luck, that).

  You are hailed as a hero, and are rewarded with a personal message of thanks from the Star League before you are quickly returned to Earth.

  You breathe a sigh of relief.

  Th at was an amazing adventure. Of course, no one will believe you, so you decide to keep it to yourself.

  But now you have a more pressing problem – you are still trapped in the games arcade, which is where you have been sent back to.

  How are you going to get out of here?

  There’s the ventilation grille in the ceiling above the front counter. That’s bound to lead out of the building.

  Or you could use your mobile phone to ring your parents.

  If you’re in the mood for more adventure, try going through the vent. Go here.

  If you’ d rather play it safe and call for your parents’ help, go here.

  Operating the controls of your Starfire, you quickly turn the ship around and hightail it away from the oncoming space battle.

  But now what? How are you going to return to Earth?

  You look over the controls. Maybe there’s an autopilot or some sort of navigation system that can get you home.

  You are so engrossed that you don’t notice you’re heading for a black hole. By the time you realise what’s happening, it’s too late – your Starfire is caught in the immense gravitational pull.

  There is nothing you can do as you’re drawn to your doom, crushed to a singularity, a point so small that even with a microscope you would not be able to see it.

  Your demise does, however, prove a long-debated scientific theory about black holes. Pity no one will ever know about it.

  You race to the front door. It’s locked. You peer through the glass to see the arcade owner, Mr Kudou, down the street. You bang on the door and shout at him. But he keeps on walking as if he can’t hear you.

  You look for another way out. No luck. Then you notice the large ventilation grille in the ceiling above the front counter. That’s bound to lead out of the building.

  If you want to try going through the vent, go here.

  But it might be better to simply use your mobile phone to call your parents. Go here.

  Of course, you could just make the best of a bad situation, switch on the power and play some games. Go here.

  You jump onto the front counter and reach up to the vent. With a good yank, you get the grille off. Then you pull yourself up into the ventilation duct.

  It’s a tight fit and it smells musty, but you start to crawl along it. As you continue, the smell gets worse, changing from musty to decaying. But you go on.

  When you reach a junction, you stop. Which way should you turn?

  From the right, you can hear ominous scratching sounds. From the left, nothing.

  If you want to investigate the sounds, go here.

  If you decide to go in the opposite direction, go here.

  Or maybe you should return to the arcade and phone your parents? Go here.

  You know it’s wrong, but you can’t help yourself. There’s no way you can pass up this opportunity to play.

  You race to the switchboard behind the front counter and switch the power back on.

  Around you, the games spring into life, lights flashing and sounds ringing. As you make your way back to Starfire, your eyes are drawn to the RESTRICTED ACCESS sign at the back of the arcade. What would a virtual reality game be like? you wonder.

  You are here all alone. You can do anything you want.

  If you decide to play Starfire again, go here.

  If you’ d rather take a peek into the restricted area, go here.

  You cautiously approach the door at the back of the arcade. There’s no one around, but you tiptoe quietly.

  You push the door open and enter.

  It’s a room with an enormous neon sign suspended from the ceiling:

  GAMES GRID MATRIX

  The ultimate gaming experience, linking all the Games Grid games into one virtual reality interface

  In the centre of the room is a chair, a box with a token slot beside it. It’s a big chair – black, shiny, padded. There are wires inlaid in the surface.

  There is nothing else in the room apart from a couple of touch screens set into the far wall.

  You approach the chair. ‘Virtual Reality Interface’ is written on the box beside it.

  You quickly pop a token into the slot and sit in the chair.

  With a quiet hum, the chair tilts back. You feel a tingling pass through the armrests, up along your entire body, like a little static charge. Slender metal rods with suction cups extend from the headrest and touch your forehead
.

  Your stomach lurches as you suddenly find yourself standing in the middle of an empty room, surrounded by doors.

  Instinctively you sit up, breaking the connection.

  You’re still in the chair.

  You lie back down and the suction cups reattach themselves.

  Now you’re standing in the room with the doors. You can’t move.

  You concentrate, focusing on moving forward … and you manage to take a step. This isn’t reality – it’s virtual reality. You’ve got to think about your movements a little more than in real life.

  You look around at the doors. Most of them have a bright yellow and white strip of hazard tape stretched across them with the words ‘Under Construction’. There are only two doors without the tape.

  The first has a sign that reads: FOREST OF UNREST. It must be the name of a game.

  The other door has no sign and is slightly ajar.

  If you want to try out Forest of Unrest, go here.

  If you’d like to open the sign-less door, go here.

  Or you could take a look through one of the ‘Under Construction’ doors. Go here.

  You nudge the door and step through. You are standing in a vast flickering nothingness. The ground beneath you is grey. The sky above you is grey. There is no discernible horizon. It feels weird and unsettling.

  The door slams and you whirl around.

  It’s gone.

  This is no fun. You’re about to sit up in the chair when a voice speaks.

  ‘Greetings!’

  You whirl around again.

  You are face to face with … someone. You can’t tell if it’s a boy or a girl. He/she/it is the same size and shape as you, but almost featureless. The figure shimmers and pulses with a gentle glow. It has no hair, not even eyebrows or eyelashes. And it has no clothes, although it doesn’t look naked either. It’s as if the figure is made of shiny liquid plastic.

  ‘My name is Cursor.’ The voice is even, flat, unreal. ‘I have been assigned as your guide through the digital world. And I have been instructed to request your assistance. The alien has been captured and imprisoned by the Matrix Computer Program – the MCP. You are invited to enter the digital world and attempt to rescue the alien.’ Cursor’s head tilts slightly to one side. ‘Do you accept?’

  This must be a game, you decide. But do you want to play it?

  If you choose to accept Cursor’s invitation, go here.

  To decline, go here.

  You step through the doorway … into a forest.

  Ahead of you is a rough path that leads into the trees. You are about to move forward when a squirrel scampers down the nearest trunk, along the grass and into the middle of the path.

  Music begins playing.

  The squirrel stands on its hind legs and sings:

  ‘Welcome to the Forest

  The Forest

  The Forest.

  Welcome to the Forest

  The Forest of Unrest.

  Walking through the Forest

  The Forest

  The Forest.

  Walking through the Forest

  You must do your best.’

  The squirrel bows and looks at you expectantly, as if waiting for applause.

  You stare at the squirrel. Cute singing animal games aren’t usually your thing. Do you want to continue anyway?

  If you want to tread deeper into the forest, go here.

  If you decide to return and try the other door, go here.

  You decline the invitation.

  ‘That is unfortunate,’ says Cursor, ‘as your presence in the digital world is mandatory.’

  Suddenly you are enclosed in a circle of light. You can feel heat emanating from it. You hear a crackling sound from above and look up. A disc of sizzling energy, like contained lightning, is descending towards you.

  You feel weird as the disc passes through you from head to toe. Your muscles spasm and your skin tingles. You feel the energy coursing through … changing you.

  As the energy dissipates, the light around you winks out.

  You feel different somehow. Your senses are heightened. Your surroundings seem more real.

  ‘Time to meet the Matrix Computer Program,’ says Cursor. ‘The MCP.’

  Go here.

  You accept the invitation.

  ‘Then you will need to be digitised,’ says Cursor, indicating the glowing metal disc on the ground next to you.

  That wasn’t there before.

  You tentatively step onto it.

  Light streams up from the side of the disc, enclosing you. You can feel heat emanating from it. There’s a crackling sound from above and you look up. A disc of sizzling energy, like contained lightning, is descending towards you.

  You’re not so sure about this now. You whirl from side to side, fear rising.

  ‘Please do not panic,’ says Cursor. ‘It will make the process more dangerous than it already is.’

  Dangerous!

  Do you calm your fear and continue? After all, it is just a game … isn’t it? Go here.

  Or do you think it’s time to stop playing and get out of here? Go here.

  You choose one of the ‘Under Construction’ doors and walk into darkness.

  A strange little man with a moustache zooms past you in a red car.

  An alien invader dives from above, shoots a death ray and disappears.

  A dragon’s head appears before you, lasers flashing from its eyes, and then fades away.

  A girl with a red Mohawk and sharp knives runs by.

  These are all images from games. You turn to go back, but the door is gone.

  More and more images come flying at you – soldiers, spaceships, cars and cartoon characters.

  You grapple with the suction cups attached to your forehead, trying to remove them, as more and more images fill your field of vision.

  A crackling disc of energy, like lightning, streaks towards you. When it hits, your muscles spasm and your skin tingles. You feel the energy coursing through you.

  The suction cups fall away and you sit up in the virtual reality chair. Your head aches and your hands are shaking. You’ve had enough games. Time to get out of here.

  Go here.

  You’ve had enough of this game. You concentrate on blocking out the virtual reality images and feeling your real world surroundings.

  You can feel yourself in the chair, but you’re still seeing the descending disc of energy. You try to jump out of the way, but it strikes and energy sizzles through your body.

  Your surroundings disappear and you no longer feel anything. You are floating in blackness. You look down at your body. It’s all pixelated, like a crude onscreen graphic.

  As you watch, pixels float away slowly. Bit by bit, you are dispersed into the darkness…

  Until there is nothing left!

  You leave the Games Grid arcade.

  As you walk home, you wish that you had stayed to play Starfire. You feel like you’ve missed out on something fantastic.

  You back out of the Forest of Unrest game, into the main room.

  But the unmarked door is now closed … and locked. You return to the forest door, thinking that this game will be better than nothing, but it’s now also locked.

  You try the first of the ‘Under Construction’ doors. It too is locked. Frantically, you go from one door to the other, shaking the handles, banging on them and trying to force them open. But they all remain firmly shut.

  Are you going to be trapped in this room forever?

  You then remember that this is just a virtual reality interface. You’re actually lying in a chair in the Games Grid Matrix room.

  You close your eyes and reach for the suction cups on your forehead. There’s a little crackle of energy and pain throbs through your head.

  You open your eyes. You’re still in the room with the doors.

  You try again, closing your eyes and putting your finger to your temples. The pain flares again, stronger this time.


  Again, you open your eyes to see the doors. Looks like you’re stuck in a broken game interface that won’t allow you to play anything.

  There’s nothing you can do except wait until next morning, when the arcade reopens and Mr Kudou can release you.

  It’s just a game. There’s no reason why you shouldn’t continue.

  You calm yourself and look up as the energy disc descends, flinching when it reaches you.

  You feel weird as the disc passes through you from head to toe. Your muscles spasm and your skin tingles. You feel the energy coursing through … changing you.

  As the energy dissipates, the light around the disc winks out.

  You feel different somehow. Your senses are heightened. Your surroundings seem more real. It’s almost like you’re no longer in the game.

  ‘You are now part of the digital world,’ says Cursor. ‘Every atom in your body has been disintegrated, erased from the real world, digitised, numerically processed and reassembled inside the digital domain.’

  What’s that supposed to mean?

  BANG!

  The ground explodes to your left, leaving a ragged, gaping hole with a pixelated outline, into nothingness.

  That’s it, you’ve had enough. Time to get out of here.

  You try to sit up in the chair.

  But nothing happens. You’re still in the grey landscape with Cursor.

  ‘You no longer exist in the real world,’ says the digital person. ‘This is your world now. This is where you live … and where you can die.’

  Die? You can die in here?

  ‘Yes,’ answers Cursor.

  As if to emphasise the point, another explosion rips a gash across the skyline.

  Cursor reaches out and opens a door that wasn’t there a moment ago.