by Damien Boyes
“I don’t buy it.”
He shrugs. “Sure, I get it. After I spent so much time trying to end your game, why would I try to help you win now, right?”
Exactly. You’re not stupid enough to fall for that. You just nod. What else is there to say?
“Yeah,” he says after a moment. “The thing is though, you don’t know me. When I asked you before to team up with me and Zara to help me win, I meant it. You didn’t want to and I get that, you had your own reasons, but my coming after you was never personal—you were a threat, an obstacle in the way of me winning. You refused peace, so I went to war. But honestly I don’t care who wins, just that someone needs to beat this damn game, to prove it can be done, and since now you’re the closest person to winning, I plan on making sure it’s you.”
“Ha!” The laugh escapes you like a bullet. Does he think you’d buy that bull?
“You bought your way back into the game and killed my entire squad to help me?”
“I didn’t buy back in—Wood invited me. Basically begged me to come back and ‘balance the game out.’”
Your spine freezes up and clogs your senses. This could be another lie, but somehow you don’t think so. Which means…
“Wood brought you back to kill me.”
“He never said that, but yeah.”
“But you didn’t kill me.”
“Nope.”
“Why?”
He laughs. “’Cause fuck that guy. I’m here to be your new team.”
“I had a team. You killed them.”
OVRshAdo leans in. “You were done with them anyway, weren’t you? Tell me you weren’t planning on soloing the next two rounds.”
You were, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of admitting it.
“How long do you really think you’d last on your own? You did well those first few rounds but you were also damn lucky. Your big plan to do the impossible is keep relying on blind luck?”
“And you think trusting you is a better plan?”
His eyes flash. “Way better.”
There’s got to be a catch. “And what do you get out of the deal?”
OVRshAdo leans back and looks over his shoulder at the sunset. “The satisfaction of kicking this place in the bollocks. Wood’s a cheater, and since I can’t put a bullet in his head, I can kill his damn game instead.” He hesitates, licking his lips. “And once it’s all over, maybe we see what else we can do together.”
Ew. Your throat tightens and a fresh surge of anger grips your thoughts. “Are you seriously hitting on me right now?”
“Shit no,” he says, putting up his hands. “Nothing like that, it’s just that—I looked you up, mate, and you’re a goddamn natural born fragger. I’ve been solo for a long time, but together? Shit, man, the two of us, we could do anything.”
OVRshAdo wants to team up and help you win the Century, and you can’t believe it, but he sounds legit. Still, you’re still not sure if you can risk it. This could be a ploy to keep you from beating his record; what’s to stop him from turning on you the second you hit the ground?
But why go to all the trouble to get back into the game and hunt you down just to spare your life?
“How am I supposed to trust you? You’ve been playing this game your whole life and you’re willing to step aside and let me take the win?”
“I’ve never lied to you,” he says, his face serious. “And I won’t.”
“Bullshit.”
His chest rises and falls, his simulated body mimicking like he’s taking a breath. “I can prove it,” he says, but when he does his voice is quiet.
Your whole body tingles and your head goes numb like you’re about to pass out. You don’t know how, but you know what he’s about to say, and you don’t want to hear it.
“No,” you whisper, your throat raw.
“He passed fifteen days ago. You’ve got famous in here, and it was all over the feeds.”
You stumble and grab onto the railing to keep from collapsing.
“You’re lying,” you say, but you know he isn’t. Rael is gone. Your boy is gone, and the thing is, you’ve known it for a while. You knew and didn’t do anything about it.
“You must have felt your aud react to it. People out there love you, mate. When the news came out…” He trails off, raising his hand like he wants to comfort you, but he doesn’t follow through.
“I—” You want to cry, your eyes are bursting, but the tears don’t come. You’re too full of grief and pain and anger to cry. Now that the bubble of unknown dread you’d been carrying around has been lanced and exposed, now that you know your worst fears have come true, what else is left?
You don’t know what to do. You only came here for Rael, why keep going?
All you want to do is curl into a ball and lie here until the world collapses around you, but you’re stuck in this damned game and whether you like it or not, in a few minutes you’ll be back on the island with ninety-nine other players gunning for your head.
Should you quit? You could always eat a bullet the second you hit the ground, but then what? Then you’ll be back in the real world and Rael will still be dead.
You can’t face that, not yet. Maybe not ever. At least in here you can pretend it’s not real. At least in here you can lose yourself in the game, lose yourself in the violence, concentrate on surviving one hour at a time.
In here you don’t have to worry about how to go on alone.
By the time you look up the sun is nearly set and the next game about to drop.
“Why’d you tell me?” you ask, once the tension in your chest has loosened. “What if I decided to quit?”
He steps back, and there’s a new sense of respect about him. “I knew you wouldn’t, you don’t quit. And besides, I told you, I won’t lie to you. You deserved to know. Whatever happened after that was up to you.”
“Well, thank you then,” you say and extend your fist with the white circle glowing on the back of your hand.
“Shit, yes.” His lips spread into a wide grin as he pounds his fist into yours. “Now let’s go beat this bitch.”
GAGE, FINSBURY
17:55:23 UTC+11 // 13-JUL-2059
“What the actual fuck?” Anika shouts, spinning on Shad. “You just murdered a billionaire!”
I keep my eyes on the combots, waiting for them to retaliate, but they don’t move to engage.
“He was showing off,” Shad says with a roll of his eyes. “Besides, everyone knows Jefferson Wood isn’t real.” He points down at the body.
Wood is flat on his back, the light in his eyes gone out, but now that I take a closer look I see chunks of shattered plastic mixed in with the blood pooling under his head.
“He’s reszo.”
“Not even,” Shad clarifies. “He’s a figment, made up whole cloth. A face for the AI to wear.”
Jefferson Wood isn’t a real person?
“How did you even know that?” Anika asks.
Shad turns to her and flashes a devious grin. “’Cause I’m just that good,” he says.
Somehow the thought that there isn’t even a token human in charge of the AI makes this place even more terrifying.
“Can we quit yammering and blow this thing?” I ask as I slip my backpack off. As it is, I don’t know why those combots haven’t opened up on us yet.
Anika and Shad drop their packs, but that’s as far as we get.
“Very good,” a voice says from above. The slick accent echoes down the cylindrical room as footsteps ring down from the metal walkway. “You came well prepared.”
The figure walks around the curving scaffolds and down the flights of steep metal stairs, but stops one level above us and leans over the railing to glance down at his twin lying wasted on the ground.
“Is it your intention to shoot every Jefferson Wood we present? You only have twelve rounds left in your weapon, which I assure you is not nearly enough to exhaust our supply of hosts.”
“I have fifteen bullets,”
Anika says.
I hold up the battle rifle. “Mine’s fed on a belt,” I add. “I’ve got bullets for days.”
Wood’s lips spread in a soft smile. “Very good. You have done well to get this far, you are to be commended.” No doubt this is when the combots will attack, and I brace myself to open fire. “And in recognition, we would offer you rewards.”
That’s not what I was expecting to hear.
“Rewards?” Shad says, sharing my surprise.
“Indeed,” Wood says. “You have reached the end of your quest, have you not?”
Anika plays right along. “You know who we are,” she says. “So you must know why we’re here.”
Wood laughs. “We do,” he says. “Indeed we do.” His eyes linger on me for just a moment before they fall on Anika. “Though we anticipated you might prefer to voice your desires yourself, as an act of catharsis. But if you’d rather skip the dramatic confrontation…” He clears his throat. “You, Anika, have come to learn the truth. You can’t understand your behavior at the end of your last round, and you can only believe we cheated you. You’ve come to prove to yourself you couldn’t be responsible for the act that ended your life here on the island.”
Anika sucks in a breath but doesn’t say anything as Jefferson Wood turns his attention to Shad. “Wallace, you are here to enact your desire for justice in a manner befitting of your extreme vanity. You believe we are unfairly sharing our combat knowledge with the world, which puts you at a disadvantage, and you have come to once again even the playing field in your favor. Though we also appreciate a great deal of your motivation stems from the challenge itself. Simply the act itself justified the effort.”
“Shit,” Shad mutters. “He’s good.”
“Why am I here then?” I ask, and Wood turns his gaze to me.
Jefferson’s eyelids flutter. “We admit, you are an enigma,” he admits. “Your identity eludes us, though we’ve concluded your primary motivation is in facilitating Anika’s goal. You are emotionally invested in her well-being.”
“Told you he was your boyfriend,” Shad jeers, and Anika shoots him a look.
I ignore them both. “I came to blow up the lightshow behind you and put an end to that Killer App you’re peddling.”
“‘Killer App?’” Wood says, and something flickers behind his eyes. “How quaint.” He draws his hand down over his beard then says, “I’m afraid that is one boon we cannot grant, but perhaps we can come to some other arrangement.”
“This isn’t a negotiation—” I start, but Wood holds up his palm.
“We’ll come back to you in a moment.” He slips his hand into his jacket pocket but freezes when Anika, Shad, and I snap our weapons up at him. After a second he slowly removes his hand, pulling something from his pocket—a glowing blue ball with a silver contact port on one side. A shyft, styled like a miniature version of the giant AI core hanging over us. He shows it to us, then presents it to Anika on his palm. “Your memories,” he says simply. “Complete and unedited.”
She steps forward, but then hesitates.
“Don’t,” I say. “It’s a trick.”
“Not at all,” Wood says. “You have our word. We will not harm any of you.”
“All those bots back there were coming for cuddles, were they?” Anika asks.
Wood’s face remains open, his lips set in a paternalistic smile. “All in the past. If we wanted you dead, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” Without warning the combots snap their weapons to attention, all six of them instantly zeroing in on headshots, two guns a head. They could drop us in an instant.
Once again Wood holds the shyft up. “This contains exactly the knowledge you seek, nothing more and nothing less. Why come this far to refuse your prize when it’s freely offered?”
I’m still not sure but Anika steps forward and snatches it from the air when Wood releases it. She holds it up and stares at the swirling blue fog inside.
“You don’t have to do this,” I say. No way the AI isn’t playing us—but I can’t make that decision for her.
“Yes I do,” she says, and gives me a sad smile.
“Press it to your I/O port and all shall be revealed,” Wood says.
Anika’s chest rises and falls as she lifts her arms, twists the latch on her helmet, and pulls it off. It hits the floor with an echoing plastic clatter.
She considers the shyft once more and I want to reach out and slap it from her hand, but force myself still as she reaches up and lets it drain into her Cortex.
Her body stiffens and a strangled squeak escapes her throat and before I know it I’ve got my weapon up once more, ready to kill. She wobbles, looking like she’s about to fall, and I don’t know if I should murder everyone or catch her, but before I can move a combot leaps forward and eases her to the ground.
“She will come to no harm,” Wood says, and his benevolent smile is starting to piss me off. “Though there will be an uncomfortable few moments while her memories reintegrate with her psychorithm, and when she returns she will bear the burden of her actions.” She’s unconscious, but her vitals are still strong. If whatever was in that shyft was meant to kill her, it’s moving slowly. Not that I could do anything about it. “In the meantime, let us turn to you, Wallace.”
“My turn for a reward?” Shad asks, cocky as ever.
“Indeed,” Wood says, turning toward Shad. “We know you to be a highly skilled combatant, one of the best we’ve ever encountered, and we also know you’re frustrated by our perceived attempts to disseminate our knowledge to those you feel are less deserving.”
“Fucking right,” Shad agrees. “Which is why we came to shut your shit down.”
Wood raises a finger. “We’d propose a counteroffer.”
My spine tingles. Whatever Wood’s about to say can’t be good. “Shad, don’t listen to him—”
“Shhh…” Shad says. “Let’s hear him out.”
Wood’s smirk broadens. “We are an ambitious company,” Wood says, running his slender fingers along the bright white railing. “With plans to aggressively expand into new markets, and we could use someone with your expertise on our side, someone who can be the herald of our New Game Experience.”
Shad’s eyes narrow. “You’re offering me a job?”
“Oh no, far more than that,” Wood says with a shake of his head. “We’re offering you the opportunity to become the first to experience Life 2.0. Humanity as you know it is about to become obsolete. We’re the next generation in human existence, but we need a new partner. An independent entity we can trust to beta test our latest updates and enhancements. In essence, Wallace, we’re offering you the chance to level up.”
Shad thinks for a minute, licking his lips the whole time. “No shit?”
“What are you doing, Shad?” I say, but by the way his eyes are shining I know Wood’s already swayed him. “This isn’t why we came here.”
“Meta’s always changing,” Shad says with a resigned shrug. “Gotta adapt to survive.”
“Very good,” Wood says, then he pauses, and the predatory look he gives me makes my stomach quiver. “We only ask one small thing in return.”
“What’s that?” Shad asks. Doesn’t matter what it is, he’s already sold.
Jefferson Wood flashes his billion-dollar smile and says, “We’d like to watch you kill your friends.”
AniK@
999:52:26 // 14 Players Remain
Your final two rounds pass in a fog of bloodshed. The kills pile up but no longer register, and the threat of death fades until it becomes meaningless, an abstract concept that only happens to other people. Eventually the constant rush of slaughter is the only thing keeping your thoughts from collapsing in on themselves, and you ride it all the way to the end.
Now here you are, staring down the one player you have left to kill, the last obstacle between you and the Century, and still you can’t pull the trigger. He’s defenseless, wounded. It’s the easiest shot of your life, so why c
an’t you finish him?
Round nine started and you went balls out, fragging from the drop. You and Shad posted up outside the gates of Aurora City, the starting hotspot, and spent the first dozen hours executing firsties as they tried to sneak in or out. Camping the starter zone is a bullshit tactic, but it works, and by the time the hotspot was cleared you were sure the two of you held the new record for kills in a single game. Fully half the lobby was gone before hour twenty, but still you didn’t slow down. You played the rest of the game on the move, hunting, chasing kill after kill, drowning your misery in carnage, and the survivors’ circle was decided a full hour before the time ran out.
Another record. Not that you care.
Shad though, he’s having the time of his life. It’s like the two of you working together have broken the game wide open and he’s rubbing his face in its guts. No one can stop you. He was ecstatic when you blew past his high-water survival mark, and after you murdered everything in the Evermore Castle hotspot he cracked open a fancy ration kit and you had a nice dinner of Salisbury steak and strudel to celebrate.
In a way, it’s funny, how easy it was to let go, to harness the hate and self-loathing and let it fuel you. You’ve been at this so long it didn’t take much to convince yourself this is where you’ve always been, that you belong out here, with the other monsters, killing each other over and over in an endless loop to satisfy the ravenous audience in your head.
And your fans—they’ve eaten it up. With every kill your reputation’s grown stronger, and every hour closer to winning the Century only added to the legend.
Round ten dropped from the Northeast Tower, offering a fresh set of victims, and all through the next ninety-odd hours, though you knew you should have been feeling a mounting excitement with every passing minute, positively vibrating with the anticipation of winning, always, in the back of your head, you knew this moment would come.
Now the end is here, and it’s only a matter of moments before you win the game and are forced back to reality.