"He mal-fucking functioned," Doug said shrugging his shoulders, wearing a sardonic grin. Then he turned to R47 and scowled. He kicked it in the ribs. It continued to writhe.
"How?" Mike asked in a wheezing voice, straining to get the word out. It was so unlikely. More likely another game, he thought. Doug had been unleashed. Unhinged. Out of control. It was the real Doug revealing himself and never to be veiled again.
Shit, he had lost control of Doug. What had happened? A topsy-turvy world. Maybe it had been that way all along. Had he ever not be afraid of Doug?
Mike struggled to his knees.
"I don't know," Doug said shrugging. "When I was finished with you, I felt him behind me. I felt him touch me as his brain started frying. Then he fell over. It is strange that there was no HUD controlling him. I have to find out why. There's something about his headset. This may be what I have been looking for. It could free us all."
"It's expensive," Mike said. "Please leave it be, okay. He didn't understand Doug's ramblings.
"It's not my money," Doug retorted. "What do I care, my friend?"
Mike stared at R47.
Doug briefly lifted his eyes. He kicked R47. Harder this time. Then he sauntered over to Mike wearing a jovial smile. "I'll tell you what, my friend," he said. "I won't break him. Or you," he said poking Mike in the chest, "if you play this game with me. If we keep playing, the mystery of this volunteer's behaviour should become clear." He paused. "And play to win. I'll know if you don't."
"Doug, pl-"
"You play to fucking win! Otherwise it won't work. This is a test." Doug shouted. Then whispered, "If you don't, I'll get rid of him and you at the same time. You saw how I turned him. Yes? I'll do it again. And before you say anything," he continued, "I have replacements for both of you. I have an unlimited supply. I only need the headset."
What replacements? A supply of what? Volunteers? People? It was a life unbeknown to Mike. He knew something was wrong with Doug, but not like this.
Mike forced himself to nod. "Okay," he croaked. Doug had broken him. He picked up his head. His throat burned when he swallowed, which was unavoidable. He wished it wasn't. He built up the saliva in his mouth in order to delay swallowing.
He didn't have to wonder for long. In an instant, Doug yanked him up by the elbows. "Come on, my friend," Doug said straining, "Come with me. I can't wait to see how R47 does against your volunteer. Let's see who is best with the HUD, hey."
Mike had a desperate thirst and a splitting headache. He summoned all of his strength knowing if Doug didn't believe he was trying, he'd likely be dead.
Fuck it, he thought. If Doug wants me to fight, I'll smash his volunteer. He clearly wants to destroy one. Better to destroy R47 given he likes it so much and it was so stupidly odd. He didn't want to see the sight of it again. He wanted it to disappear. Cease to exist. Let's see how many reserves he has. He's probably bluffing.
Mike pounded the virtual buttons. He made his volunteer sprint forward and lunge at R47, wielding its fists in all directions. But the attack was uncoordinated. Doug out manoeuvred him and Mike's volunteer didn't connect with R47.
Mike realised he was out of practice. He hadn't gotten dirty with the detail for a while, but it was his business to know the inner workings of HUD signals. He knew a cheat, and he would use it.
R47's elbow connected with Mike's volunteer sending it sprawling. Mike tried to counter attack, but R47 had already unleashed a succession of punches, one of which connected with a crunch. Mike imagined that his volunteer's jaw had broken under the mask of the skin suit. Fuck Doug.
Mike could see that R47 would not relent. In a matter of seconds his volunteer would be a mash of crushed bones and squashed guts. Without further hesitation he hit the cheat combination. It was one of the emergency overrides that only owners and select operators knew about. Doug sure as hell didn't.
R47 halted. The cheat would have caused Doug's HUD to suddenly lose contact with R47. Doug scowled. Mike's volunteer landed a combination of punches sending R47 sprawling within inches of losing its balance.
"What the fuck is going on?" Doug shouted. His smooth action had transformed to random fumbling. Mike launched another attack. His volunteer sprinted at R47 and tackled him to the ground.
Mike had grown to hate R47. Doing his bidding and being special to him, it had become an extension of Doug.
"Now you're going to die," Mike said to R47 under his breath as he configured a final attack.
###
R47's vision returned. Finding himself on his back, he jerked away from the object he suspected had triggered his pain. He lay still for a time.
Without warning, the program resumed to impose its will on him, stood him up and ordered him to attack another object in his vision. His actions were precise, but guided. He was being led. A slave to the instructions from the program.
A spark inside of him signalled a flash. Awareness crept into him and he recognised constraint. He realised that something dominated him. The program was leading him, dragging him along.
He noticed the movement of his own form and saw the shapes of his physical makeup. He observed this external emanation and perceived his own existence.
At the climax of his realisation, in an instant the program released its grip and its orders ceased. Following the burst of another spark, he made another discovery. He was alone. Not only that. He knew he was under attack. He felt a deep impact in his abdomen followed by a rattling shock to his ribs.
His eyes rose to the sight of an object similar in shape and form to himself. The same tight black material strangled its body. The same mask covered its head. It was a mirror image, except that its movement was stilted and mechanical. At once he perceived self. The object was the same as him but external. He was different. Unique.
He was paralysed. Why? No input. The masked figure lunged at him. On impact he fell to the ground, and it was on top of him. Dominating him. He saw its fist raised above his head.
A burst of light bore a web of neural connections and, in an instant, his concept of self extended to self preservation. The fist that had been raised now propelled at him. He sensed there would be damage if it connected. Severe damage. And discomfort.
As the fist burst into his near vision he evaded it with a subtle turn of his head. An attack from the object's other fist followed, but he deflected it with a raised elbow and counter-attacked by twisting his elbow into its chest in one fluid motion.
He was acting on instinct without time to process the consequences of his actions and what they would reveal about him.
The object tried to counter attack but its movements bore a pattern he found easy to predict. He wrapped his legs around its exposed torso and twisted to exert leverage. He rolled it over. Now he was in control, sitting on top of its chest. He lowered his hips, crushing it. Then fixed his hands around its throat and squeezed.
It agitated its body in another predictable pattern twisting and bucking. But R47 fixed himself to it. It gripped his wrists with its hands but he didn't let go. It's movement slowed.
There was another flash. It interrupted his impulse. He questioned. Why am I injuring it? What if I continue? What will happen to it?
The web of his neural connections was now expanding at an exponential rate. It was like years of childhood compressed into mere seconds. The intensity distracted him. He lifted his hands to cover his eyes as if from a bright light, releasing the object from his grip.
He was disoriented. The other object recovered. It turned him over, spilling him onto the ground. Then it jumped on top of him and replicated his strategy.
It tightened its grip around his throat. He felt extreme intra-cranial pressure.
His consciousness faded.
###
Mike was bewildered. A moment before he had the upper hand. He had neutered Doug's HUD leaving R47 exposed. He had directed his volunteer in a series of attacks and it ended up on tope of R47.
He had ordered his v
olunteer to land a powerful blow, knowing it would crush R47's face. Doug was impotent because Mike had cut off his HUD signal. Mike had thought his plan was flawless.
Then R47 parried and was on the attack, threatening to suffocate Mike's volunteer.
Mike peered at Doug. Doug looked incredulous. His mouth was agape. When their eyes met, Doug motioned his hands as if he was in control. But there was something implausible that Mike could detect from Doug's actions. They appeared random. They didn't accord with the pattern of R47's attack. It was almost as if... R47 was acting of his own will. No. Not possible. But, how else could Mike explain it?
Mike lowered his eyes to focus on his controls. He tried to shake R47 off of his volunteer. When that didn't work he tried to gain control of R47's wrists to lever them off his volunteer's throat. To no avail.
He hit the cheat combination again, hoping, but not believing, that Doug's connection to R47 had renewed and needed to be broken again. He quickly looked at Doug to detect a reaction. Doug was staring at R47. He was motionless.
Mike turned his gaze to the volunteers. R47 was gripping its temples, like it had a shooting pain. It looked vulnerable. Exposed. Defenceless. Mike pounced. He configured the program to repeat R47's strategy and turned the tables.
Mike's volunteer grasped control. It seized R47's throat and Mike ordered it to savagely crush him out of existence. Having locked in his orders, Mike broke his concentration and turned his attention to Doug to display his satisfaction. Mike wore a smug expression and grinned for the first time since Doug had turned Ray into R47.
Doug's face was blotched with spots of rage. He gritted his teeth in a snarl and curled his fists. He began to seethe. His eyes fixed on Mike. He hastened to the volunteers, stood over Mike's volunteer and placed his hands around its throat. It convulsed, releasing R47. Doug let go of it and allowed it to collapse to the ground writhing and twitching.
Doug turned to Mike. "Get your filthy hands off that HUD!" he shouted, stomping toward him.
Mike's hearty grin turned sallow in acknowledgment of a grave error. He fumbled without delay to shut down his HUD. He couldn't turn it off quickly enough.
Mike backed away as Doug closed in on him. "You told me to win, okay," he said to Doug in a wavering voice. Doug continued his hastening approach. "I was just doing what you told me," Mike snivelled. He spoke urgently, trying to squeeze the words out before Doug got to him.
Doug halted in front of him. He lifted a hand and Mike startled as if expecting a blow. But Doug extended his hand as if to offer congratulations. "It's okay my friend," Doug said. He offered an ugly smile. "You are right," he said. "You fought hard." Again, the rotten egg breath overwhelming. After a pause he said "You fought well." He raised his eyes inviting Mike to shake his hand.
Mike's heart was galloping. Anxiety enveloped him. Infused with cortisol. Like a deer in the death grip of a lion.
He didn't trust Doug. What if he offered his hand? Would Doug twist it, maybe break it? He didn't want Doug to touch him. It was dangerous to be this close to him let alone let him touch any part of him.
Doug placed his hand on Mike's forcing a gentle handshake and encouraging Mike to participate. Doug's hand was damp with warm sweat. It was disgusting. Mike felt awkward and suppressed any aggression given Doug's gentle gesture. He gained a slight confidence and, instead of resisting, joined in the rhythm of the movement. The handshake was shared between them, both smiling. Mike accepted that he ought to be congratulated because he had given Doug the competition that Doug so desperately desired. He had tested Doug's skill as they had planned.
"There. You see, my friend," Doug said, "I'm glad we had a good play." After a pause, he winked and said, "Well done." All the time their hands kept shaking and discomfort and fear crept into Mike's mind.
Feeling awkward, Mike tried to withdraw his hand as politely as he could manage, but Doug kept an iron grip. Not only that, Doug kept the momentum of the movement like a pendulum. Mike grimaced.
"You cheated," Doug said in a whisper, albeit forcefully. He sped up the movement of their hands shaking. Mike's hand was crushed in Doug's grasp and his arm ached. His face contorted in agony.
"Doug, I'm sorry," Mike whined. "I'm really sorry, okay." After a pause he said, "Please let go. Please, Doug." Mike was angry with himself. How could he have trusted Doug? He knew Doug was up to something; knew it in his bones, but what was he meant to do? Not shake Doug's hand? What then? Every action, every step was a trap.
Mike squealed, then felt instant relief as Doug cut short the movement. "Now that I've let you go, my friend," Doug said, "You are going to show me how to cheat." Then he said with emphasis on each word as if a teacher to his student, "You are going to show me everything you know about this HUD. Everything. There's something going on here. The HUD. The headset. You are going to help me solve this."
Mike said nothing.
"Did you hear what I said, my friend?" Doug raised his elbow and pressed his forearm into Mike's neck. His voice was coarse. His tone deliberate.
But Mike's attention was drawn elsewhere, his face frozen.
Doug exerted more pressure on Mike's neck. "Look," Mike said, his voice muffled and strained. He pointed, his eyes bulging.
"What is wrong with you?" Doug asked turning his gaze in the direction to which Mike was pointing. Then his voice trailed off.
"Well, well," Doug said after a pause. They were both looking at the entrance to the room. And to R47 standing in it. If Mike hadn't known better, it would have appeared that R47 was trying to sneak away.
"Where is my rifle?" Doug asked.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
R47 FELT INSTANT relief as the mirror object of himself released its grip around his throat.
Another flash of light. Acknowledgement. R47 recognised it as more than an object. It was a volunteer.
R47 attended to his surrounds. The other volunteer lay beside him convulsing. R47 was trying to understand what had happened. He listened attentively. There were voices. He lifted his eyelids to enable discovery.
A stout, bulky object menaced away from him toward a taller, lanky object on the other side of the room. R47 recognised he had seen them both before the fog had engulfed him. That fog was lifting.
Something was rising in his psyche. A realisation he was trying to suppress because it was threatening to overwhelm him. It was about them. He had known them. They were… people.
What was he?
He heard a voice. The sound was familiar. It was incomprehensible at first. The meaning was gnawing at him. A jolt in his head. Language. He recognised the words - "You cheated," the voice had said. It had come from one of the… people. R47 thought he recognised the voice. It was a faint and distant memory. One a volunteer should not have. A bolt of light blinded him for a moment as had the others. The detached tone. The heartless content. Its origin. Dangerous. It was… Doug.
R47 observed them. There was jostling between them. The other was familiar too. He was weaker. He squealed and Doug let go of him.
Now's the time, he thought. While they were distracted, R47 backed away creating distance. He turned his head to see a doorway and angled towards it.
He could hear them talking again. Then a pause. He felt their eyes on him even though he had turned to face the door.
"Where is my rifle?" The words came from Doug.
R47 froze. A rifle. A weapon. He remembered that too. Should he run? Maybe he'll spare me if I stay still, he thought.
"There's no time, okay," the other one said. R47 could interpret their language now. It was as if someone had hidden his abilities in a cupboard that was now unlocked.
"I'm not even sure if it's still in here," the other one said. "He's acting like that other volunteer. The one you killed. God only knows what he might do. He could be gone by the time we figure it out. We can't lose him. We can't afford to. We'll be in even more trouble."
"We're not in any trouble, my friend," Doug said. "Or at least I'm not,"
he chuckled.
The colour washed out of the face on the other person. His eyes sank. He was almost unrecognisable in this state. Almost. It's Mike, R47 reasoned. Even though he's become subservient, it's him.
R47 remained still. Mike couldn't save him. Doug would do whatever he pleased. His best bet was to stand at the doorway and hope that Doug wouldn't kill him.
"Just tackle him, for God's sake, okay," Mike said. "The failsafe will kick in. He won't get anywhere."
"That's no fun, my friend. Let's play another game. Test him with your HUD. Get him back here."
"Doug please."
"Don't look so depressed," Doug said. "It's easy. Use your HUD to control him and keep him in here. Then I'll have some time to find my rifle."
He's going to kill me whatever I do, R47 thought. I'd better get out of here.
###
As he moved, commands emanating from a HUD wrenched R47's consciousness. The stream of orders was difficult to resist, threatening to choke him if he refused to swallow them. He felt himself turning back to face the two men. Mike's hands were making precise movements in operating his HUD. Doug was rummaging in the background.
R47 became desperate. He strained to disobey. Another flash of light. This one so blinding that it caused a bolt of pain in his head. He sank to his knees.
Then a connection. He could visualise the signals travelling from the HUD into his mind. It was an observable poetry but in code. He could trace their interaction with the software in his headset. He could feel the headset intercepting the waves of commands translating the code and manipulating him.
He focused finding that, with effort, he could hack the code as it reached his headset. Self-assured, he rose to his feet, turned and opened the door.
Evolution Z Page 9