Control
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connectors. They were probably hidden under the protector, but George couldn’t peel it off the edge. The thing probably used contactless charging and wireless for everything. The pattern of the edge continued on the back and combined in the center in a symbol that looked like a compass with several hands. The wrapping wasn’t silicone and didn’t stick to his fingers, it looked more like a kind of matted metal. Still the thing had fallen with barely a sound and the edge didn’t show any damage.
The train arrived and George went on it still looking at his trophy. There were few passengers inside, the morning rush had already died down. While George was looking around, the tablet in his hands suddenly vibrated. The screen had lit up and showed a diagram of the compartment. The passengers were marked with dots of varying colour. He looked closely at the screen and discovered one of the people was missing. A touch on one of the dots immediately showed a list of the type and model of available electronic devices. The tablet had scanned the compartment the moment George had gone in! Obviously the missing passenger had no electronics on him. George felt an indulgent smile spread across his face. The people without mobile connection were few lately, and they were getting fewer still. Soon there would be none, and everyone would be accounted for. Part of his consciousness wondered what “accounted for” meant, but his attention had already shifted to the menu that appeared all around the edge of the screen. It was written in English of course, he hated working with localized electronics. The inappropriate translations only messed with one’s good habits.
The menu covered all possible actions that the chosen subject could execute. Conversations, games, document access, work and pleasure – it was all classified by type and aim. Next to each of the options there was a number in brackets. The PRICE, flashed through George’s mind. Why was the PRICE so important? He didn’t know, and didn’t care much. It was just a game, was it not? In the top right corner of the screen appeared a large number with pale blue, almost white digits; the background was silvery and filled with beautiful curved lines reminiscent of vines and wild trees that had never been touched by a man. In front of the number stood the symbol from the back of the tablet, the largest hand pointing up and to the right, at about forty five degrees. George looked back at the proposed actions. The credit available would cover a lot of them. He chose one at random and before he had looked up from the screen he knew – it was already done. The passenger that he had selected was getting out his smartphone and checking his email.
Suddenly a new number appeared in the top left corner. It was very small, several times smaller than the PRICE paid. George started and looked back to the right, an unexplained shiver passing through him. The credit had diminished. The background had taken on a light pink sheen, the curvy lines were different. Right, so the game was until the credit was gone. And what was the goal?
Answering his thoughts, the screen showed a list of names. They were all written in different languages, with different alphabets, most of them understandable, some barely a line of squiggles to his eyes. In front of every name there was a number that signified their achievement. At the back in brackets and with much smaller digits was another number. The PRICE paid, went through his mind again. Why did he always go back to that, as if it mattered how many virtual points someone has spent? People with a better score that had spent less were obviously higher on the scoreboard. The list flew down and stopped at a name written in Bulgarian. His name. In front of it was his tiny score, at the back – the PRICE he had paid. He shivered subconsciously and looked away from the number. His name was last, there was nothing below it. He could at least correct that! And in the top of the list there was a glimmer of light, a promise for something more, something bigger, more important. He had to reach it, had to prove himself worthy!
The new Controller dived wildly into the orders he directed at his charges, studying the endless menus of the Terminal in stride. In the top right corner the PRICE he was able to pay started its descent, the curved beautiful lines gradually straightened and looked more and more like a computer circuit, while the arrow of the symbol slowly went to point downwards. The background started losing its angelic, silvery sheen, and turned bright, bloody red. The Controller didn’t know it yet, but when the arrow pointed straight down he would have paid the maximum and ultimate PRICE, and his way was only Down from there. The Terminal was of course ready for this moment and impatiently waited to make its one-time offer that the Controller couldn’t turn down.
Unlimited credit for control in exchange for a single Soul.
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Ivan Popov
About the Author
Ivan Popov is a fantasy, sci-fi and RPG fan with a knack for short stories and the desire to write something longer. He works as a bioinformatician in a research medical center, a complex job that probably takes advantage of his imagination too. He lives in Bulgaria, but his mind is always on an intergalactic journey or two.
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