Reaper

by Janet Edwards

  Michael shook his head. “If I say I want to take my assistants into Game to help me catch the bomber, nobody is going to start arguing about the Leebrook Ashton bill. It’s best that Nathan stays working here in real life for a little longer, he wouldn’t be allowed access to Game design information as a player in Game, but you can come with me.”

  Michael looked expectantly at me, but I was still too stunned to speak.

  “You can stay here with Nathan if you prefer that,” added Michael. “I promised I wouldn’t rush things between us. You can think about it and tell me your decision in the morning.”

  He didn’t wait for an answer, just turned, went back into the bedroom, and closed the door. I heard a muffled female voice through the door, which had to be a bed giving advice on suitable hormone therapy, and gave a shaky laugh.

  I cleared away the remains of the food, lay down on my own bed, and stared up at the ceiling. I had to choose between bypassing the Leebrook Ashton bill and entering Game right away, or waiting in the real world for another year. It wasn’t a hard decision to make. All my life, I’d been dreaming of entering Game, and now I had the chance to go there with Michael.

  The fact that Michael would enter Game and become Hawk was going to complicate things, the fact we were going there to chase the bomber would complicate things even more, but there was no way that I was going to be left behind.

  Tomorrow would be my eighteenth birthday. I’d always dreamed of entering Game on that day. The Leebrook Ashton bill had snatched that dream away, but Michael had handed it back to me. Tomorrow, the Jex of the silver, feathered hair would come to life.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  “Are you nearly finished?” asked Nathan.

  “Nearly.” I frowned at the screen in front of me. “I didn’t expect Game Registration to take this long. I’d set up my appearance and basic facts ages ago. I knew I still had to do the final personal details section, but I wasn’t expecting all the movement sequencing as well. I must have looked really silly doing the arm waving and jumping up and down.”

  “The movement sequencing is very important. It means you’ll move in Game like yourself, rather than using standard automated movements.”

  I remembered something. “Michael mentioned he’d injured a shoulder muscle just before he entered Game. It must have affected his movement sequencing, which is why Hawk always does that one-shouldered shrug. Anyway, I’m just finishing my answers to the, erm ...”

  Nathan grinned. “Sexual preference details?”

  “Erm ... yah. When we were taught about Game Registration in school, they didn’t mention these questions.”

  “We were nine years old at the time,” said Nathan.

  “Point, but it says my answers will go on my open record for anyone to see.”

  “Having players’ sexual preferences stated on their open record avoids a lot of unfortunate misunderstandings.”

  “Assuming people are honest about them. Which I doubt very much.”

  Nathan laughed at me. “Are you hiding a dark secret, Jex?”

  I ignored him. “Just a couple more questions now.”

  I entered my last two answers and lifted a hesitant finger. “I’m done. I think I’m done. I hope I haven’t made any mistakes. Perhaps I should go through and check my answers again.”

  “Just carry on and complete your registration,” said Nathan. “It doesn’t matter if you’ve made a mistake, because you can always ask a Game Tech to correct it later.”

  I took a deep breath, confirmed my registration, and a wild surge of emotion hit me. Jex of the silver, feathered hair was real now. She was in Game, still sleeping, waiting for me to wake her, waiting for me to become her.

  “I’m registered with Game,” I said, my voice shaking.

  “Congratulations,” said Nathan.

  “I’m sorry you aren’t doing this too. It’s not fair.”

  He shook his head. “Working here with Game texts, learning all about Game design, is an incredible opportunity. It has to improve my chances of eventually being recruited as a Game Tech.”

  I thought Nathan would be recruited as soon as he entered Game. The Game Techs surely wouldn’t want to leave him running round as a player for even a few days when he knew so many Game secrets.

  I daren’t say that, because I mustn’t risk raising any false hopes. I just smiled and stood up. We went out of Nathan’s apartment, and headed down the corridor to an anonymous, white room. I expected to find Michael waiting for me, but there was only a doctor’s medical droid standing next to two freezer units.

  I’d spent the last year riding patrol in the body stacks. Red Sector Block 2 had held ten million freezer units just like the ones in front of me. Now I was going inside one myself. I’d been dreaming of this moment all my life, but I still felt a last minute shiver of apprehension.

  I remembered Michael saying he’d had last minute doubts about entering Game for the ten year trial, and a lot of the other volunteers had backed out entirely. I could understand that. If I was uneasy about stepping into a freezer unit now, people must have been terrified back then. Four hundred years ago, no one knew if the Game was safe or not. No one knew if the primitive freezer units would work, or if they’d destroy the minds and bodies they were supposed to preserve.

  “Nervous?” asked a voice from behind me.

  Michael had arrived. I turned round to face him. At this instant, he was still Michael, but this was probably the last time I’d ever see him like that. The doctor was waiting expectantly, and the last few seconds were ticking away for me and Michael.

  “A bit nervous,” I said.

  Michael nodded. “I’ll stay with you while you start the freezing process, and then catch up with you in Game. Cassandra has been talking to the Ganymede Admission Committee. They’ve rushed through accepting you as a resident, so you should be waking up in your new house there.”

  He went across to the nearer freezer unit, and stood by the open lid. We had an audience of a doctor and Nathan watching us, which ruled out any dramatic last words or kisses. I went over to the freezer unit, clambered awkwardly inside, and sat down.

  The doctor checked the freezer unit controls, and started going through the final checklist before freezing me. “No metal items in your pockets, Jex?”

  “They’re empty.” I tugged them inside out to prove it.

  “You aren’t wearing any jewellery?”

  “No jewellery.”

  The doctor waved a scanner at me anyway. Medical rules stated that multiple checks had to be made on these things, because body contact with metal objects could cause horrendous damage during the freezing process.

  The doctor’s droid head finally nodded approval. “Please lie back and relax.”

  I lay down, and shuffled to get comfortable. Michael and Nathan moved to stand, side by side, next to my freezer unit. Michael was smiling down at me. Nathan looked understandably wistful.

  “Goodbye.” I aimed the word at Nathan, but it was really for Michael. I’d be able to call Nathan and talk to him from within Game, but Michael was vanishing forever.

  What would happen when Michael was the glittering legendary Hawk again? Would he still be interested in me, or had everything that happened between us just been a brief aberration? Part of a strange, vulnerable time when he’d returned to being the boy from four hundred years ago? Once he was a Founder Player again, Hawk might get caught up in his old life, and forget that he’d ever shared a clumsy kiss with a girl from the body stacks.

  The transparent lid was closed on top of me, and my vision grew hazy as the gases were pumped in. During my training as a medical cadet, I’d learned about every step of the freezing process, but it was still weird to have it happening to me.

  I’d constantly imagined my first entry into Game, playing it through a thousand times, but none of them had been like this. I’d expected to be frozen in a medical unit, and for my freezer unit to be transferred to a short stay stor
age area until I was past the period of defrosting to work or to have babies.

  I’d never expected to enter Game from a freezer unit in a United Law facility. I’d never expected a Founder Player to be standing next to me in his physical body, smiling at me as the gases took effect and my eyelids drooped and closed.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  People spoke of strange experiences as they made the transition into Game. While some felt nothing at all, a few were aware of a chilling blackness, while others had curious and very vivid dreams. In my case, I was alone on a vast, grey, featureless plain. There was no one in sight, but I could hear the faint whispering of voices.

  I stood on the plain, unable to move, for about thirty seconds, and then suddenly I was in a room in Game. I could tell from the design of the room, the shape of the doorways, and the mauve mistiness of the air that this was a house on Ganymede. I was arriving at my new home there as Hawk had promised.

  For the next second or two, I still couldn’t move, but then I was stepping forward. It was almost like moving in real life, except for a feeling of lightness and well being. I felt as if I would be able to run endlessly and never tire.

  I gasped in exhilaration, and was instantly struck by the smell and taste of the air. I’d studied a host of images of Ganymede, but hadn’t known that the air here would have its own scent, a distinctive mixture of flowers, spices, and salt. For a second, it confused me, but then I accepted it as part of the uniqueness of Ganymede.

  I looked down at myself, and saw I was wearing the blue and silver sleeveless dress I’d chosen for my entry to Game. I lifted my left arm and studied it. The bar code had gone, and instead, spiralling up my forearm, there was a bronze bracelet. Soft, apparently part of my skin, but shining brightly. I ran the fingers of my right hand over it with a smile, and indulged myself by just looking at it for a few minutes. The bracelet summed up everything. After all the years of dreaming and planning, I was really here in Game.

  There was an ornate wooden chair standing next to me. I reached out to feel the cool solidness of wood, the smooth polished surface, and the intricate grooves of the pattern carved into it. I was used to the battered plastic furniture in my old room, and now I had furniture modelled on real life antiques. I found myself laughing in an odd mixture of delight and bewilderment.

  A soft, automated voice spoke from the air above me.

  “Player Jex Thorpe Leigh Grantham, resident of Ganymede, you have a player requesting Game world transfer into your home. Do you accept the Game world transfer request from player Hawk, resident of Celestius?”

  “Yah,” I said.

  I waited, but nothing happened.

  The voice spoke again. “Response not recognized. Do you accept the Game world transfer request?”

  I realized I needed to use the formal Game commands I’d been taught in school. “Game command. Accept Game world transfer request.”

  There was a delay of about a minute, and then Hawk appeared next to me, motionless and blank eyed. I stared at him, worried that something was wrong, and then worked out he was still in Game world transfer from his home on Celestius. The process only lasted a second longer. I could tell the instant he truly arrived, because his handsome face filled with life. He took a deep breath, exhaled, and turned to smile at me.

  “It feels good to be back in Game.” His smile widened as he inspected me. “I like the hair.”

  I blushed guiltily at Hawk’s words. “I planned my Game appearance a long time ago. I like feathered hair. I wasn’t copying yours.”

  “I know.” He walked round me, studying me from all sides. “This suits you. The essence of your own face is still there. Many people make the mistake of losing their original selves entirely. I did that with Hawk, making him everything that Michael wasn’t. Cassandra was much wiser; her Game face was just a more perfect version of her own younger self.”

  He shrugged one shoulder in his distinctive way. “It took me decades to understand the full importance of rooting your Game appearance in reality. Game is just a fantasy, a living dream. Your Game persona is a thin layer of illusion, masking your true self that was shaped by experiences in the real world. You have to hold on to that true self, or you’ll stop being a person at all, and a vital part of that is seeing something of your real face when you look in the mirror. By the time I had the sense to appreciate that, it was rather too late to change my face to look more like Michael.”

  I shook my head. “I think there’s more of Michael’s face in Hawk than you realize. Michael’s got black hair too. His eyes aren’t as dark as Hawk’s, but there’s a lot of resemblance in the facial shape and expressions.”

  Hawk sighed. “I hate it that I can’t properly savour this moment with you, but I need to have a quick conference with Kwame, catch up on Game news with Cassandra, and then make a broadcast to the players. Do you mind if I do that here?”

  “Of course not. You do what you need to do. I’ll wander round the room and get used to being my real self at last.”

  I looked round the room as I spoke, and had a breathless moment as I saw that translucent drapes were drawn across what had to be a large window. I only needed to draw back those drapes and I’d see the sky that I’d dreamed of for so long. I made an instinctive movement towards them, and then stopped. No, let the drapes stay closed for now. My dreams of entering Game hadn’t been of looking at Ganymede’s sky through a window, but standing outside and looking up at the magnificence of Jupiter overhead.

  “Perhaps after your broadcast, we could go outside together, admire the sky, walk on the beach, and ...” I broke off, because I was assuming too much. I had to remember I was talking to Hawk now, not Michael.

  “The first time that you look up at Jupiter is unforgettable,” Hawk said. “I’d love to share that with you.”

  While Hawk had been studying me, I’d been absorbing his appearance too. I’d seen a host of Game images of Hawk and thought they were realistic. I’d seen a controlled droid walking bearing his image, and thought that was stunningly accurate too. Now I could see that both those things had just been pale reflections of the original.

  Hawk’s face was constantly changing expression, each feathered hair on his head lifted and shifted delicately with every step he took, and the exuberant movements of his body were filled with personality. His clothes, layers of glittering black gauze worn over the top of silver chain mail, were totally different to the neat blue tailored outfit portrayed by the droid, and as his left sleeve shifted I caught a glimpse of the dazzling diamond bracelet that marked him out as a Founder Player.

  “Game command. Request Game Tech assistance,” said Hawk.

  Kwame appeared, looking even more startlingly different than Hawk. Previously, I’d only seen Kwame as a standard Game droid with a mask-like image of a face. Now he was fully human and was wearing a Game Tech uniform, the badge golden to match the golden insignia on his face.

  “I’d like a similar console setup to the one I use at home,” said Hawk. “Please put it over in the corner out of the way. I shouldn’t clutter up Jex’s new house.”

  Hawk pointed to a corner of the room, and it suddenly had a set of screens hanging in thin air, with a carefully placed chair in front of them. I was startled to see these weren’t modern screens, but dreamlike, surreal representations of ancient computer equipment from four centuries ago.

  I frowned. The diamond bracelet on Hawk’s arm was a symbol of the status gap between us, and these screens were an uncomfortable reminder of the difference in our ages.

  “Thank you,” said Hawk. “Now we need to discuss the details of my broadcast. I feel we still can’t tell the general player population that a Game Tech was involved in the bombing. In fact, I think we’ll need to keep that secret permanently, because destroying the players’ trust in Game Techs would leave them living in fear.”

  Kwame nodded. “The Game Techs strongly agree with you on this point.”

  “I haven’t even t
old Cassandra that the bomber was a Game Tech,” said Hawk. “I hate lying to her, but I also know just how much the truth would scare her. It was frightening enough for me, thinking about how a Game Tech could turn the ground beneath my feet into molten lava, but I had the option to leave Game. Cassandra is trapped here, because she’ll die if she tries to defrost.”

  I stood there watching Hawk talk. Half of my mind was listening to his words, while the rest of it was still absorbing the multiple differences between being in the real world and being in Game. I’d found Hawk’s clothes confusing at first. The flimsy, multi-layered black robe, shot through with glittering threads, had seemed curiously impractical for Hawk the Unvanquished. Now I realized that it could be shrugged off in a second to leave him free for action in the silver chain mail.

  I was fascinated by that chain mail. As Hawk moved, the robe drifted to reveal shimmering areas of intertwined silver links that clung tightly to him, as flexible as a second skin. I couldn’t help wondering whether the chain mail felt hard or soft. I was tempted to reach out and ...

  “Jex,” said Hawk.

  I jumped guiltily, thinking for a second I’d not just thought about the action, but actually touched him.

  “I’d like your opinion of this too. I can’t tell the player population the full truth, but I need to say something to boost their confidence. We’ve made progress. Harper is far less dangerous as a player than he was as a Game Tech. The situation has improved, and I need to find a way to convey that improvement to the players.”

  Hawk paused. “I’m thinking of telling people that Tomath was the one organizing the bombings. He’s now dead in the real world, but we’re still searching for his accomplice, the Reaper, who helped with minor jobs.”

  I blinked. “You’re planning to reverse the truth, claim that Tomath was the bomber and the Reaper just helped out with minor jobs? Isn’t that likely to annoy the Reaper?”