Gamers' Challenge (5 page)

‘And me?’ asked Zyra.

‘Yes,’ Tee answered.

‘I wanna see ‘em!’ demanded Tark. ‘Rights now!’ Tee looked thoughtfully at them, running a hand along his beard. ‘All right. If we’re going to head out,we need to get you some weapons first.’

6: Tark and Zyra
 

Tark and Zyra watched in dumbfounded silence as Tark and Zyra planned their next robberies. The new Tark had acquired a hellfire-spear, its tip alight with a flickering blue flame, and was intending to use it to kill a dragon and win its stash of gold. The new Zyra had stolen a Designers Paradise key from the Skinny Rich Dude who lived up the
Hill,
and was now intending to steal another from the Cracker.

‘Seen enough?’ asked Tee, sitting on one of the steps leading down to the basement hideout.

‘Yeah,’ said Tark at the same time that Zyra said,

‘No.’

‘Looks at her,’ said Zyra. ‘Looks at her face. It’s me! Except that she ain’t got no pimples. And her hair is stickin’ up like it’s meant ta.’ She turned to look at Tee. ‘And she ain’t gonna gets older, is she? She’ll be perfect forevers.’

‘For as long as she plays,’ replied Tee. ‘But she’s trapped. Trapped in patterns of behaviour and speech. Trapped in an endless, repeating quest. Trapped by rules that stop her from getting what she really wants.’

Zyra resumed her surveillance, absently running her fingers across the pimples on her cheek.

‘Is all of that really worth eternal youth?’ asked

Tee.

Zyra shrugged.

The new Zyra threatened the new Tark with her knives, and then turned her back on him. He stood staring at her, a pained look in his eyes.

Tark watched himself watching Zyra, recognising the longing in his own eyes.

‘I’ve hads enough,’ said Tark. ‘Let’s gets outtahere.’

Before Tee could lead them away, the new Tark and Zyra whisked past, out of sight.

‘I is glad that’s over,’ said Tark.

‘It’s never easy the first time,’ admitted Tee, as he climbed the stairs. ‘But you get used to the idea.’

Tark and Zyra followed.

‘Can we see your replacement?’ asked Zyra, thoughtfully.

‘Ah, well -’ Tee began as he reached the exit. Heducked back down. ‘VIs,’ he breathed. Mter waiting a few seconds he slowly peered out into the ruined City.

Tark and Zyra also cautiously looked out. Thereplacements were going in opposite directions, the new Tark towards the Forest and the new Zyra deeper into the City towards the Den of Thievers. Each of them was being pursued by a VI, which, of course, neither could see.

‘Interesting,’ said Tee. He looked back at Tark and Zyra. ‘I wonder if they were expecting us to visit your replacements?’

Tark and Zyra had no opportunity to comment, for at that moment, Tee’s communicator beeped. He took it out and flipped it open.

‘Yes?’ he said.

‘Dad?’ A female voice crackled breathlessly from the little speaker. ‘Stine and I are under attack ...’ The voice faded away into a hissing crackle, and then slowly became audible again. ‘... whole bunch of VIs.’

‘Where are you?’ Tee shook the communicator and shouted into it. ‘Tell me where you are.’

‘... power station.’ The communicator went dead.

‘On my way,’ said Tee, snapping the communicator closed. ‘Change of plans.’ He looked around to make sure that the VIs were far enough away, then took off through the rubble.

‘Hey, whats about us?’ called Zyra, staring after the departing figure.

‘We betta follows,’ said Tark, making a move.

‘Wait,’ said Zyra. ‘Maybe we is betta off on our owns.’

‘I don’t think so.’ There was a certainty in Tark’s expression. ‘We needs ta go now, or we is gonna lose him.’

Zyra quickly weighed up the options. ‘Okay.’ They took off after Tee.

7: Hope

Spires of twisted metal rose from the concrete, windowless building. A high smokestack soared into the clouds from the centre of the structure. A chain-link fence topped with razor wire and covered in signs saying DANGER and HIGH VOLTAGE surrounded the whole area. It was an imposing building with a menacing ambience that screamed

‘stay away’.

Tee slipped through a hole in the fence that enclosed the abandoned power station, Tark and Zyra not far behind him. As he ran for the door, he unhooked the crossbow from his belt. He stopped by the slightly ajar door and loaded the weapon. Without waiting for Tark and Zyra, he shouldered the door wide open and ran in.

Tark and Zyra glanced nervously at each other asthey loaded their own crossbows with static-tipped bolts.

‘Ready?’ asked Zyra.

‘No,’ replied Tark.

They grinned at each other and went in.

They were in a long dark corridor lined with closed doors. Tee was already halfway down, running towards the open door at the far end, which spilled a little light into the darkness. Tark and Zyra ran after him. They burst into a cavernous, dimly-lit area full of dormant machinery - a converted factory of some sort. Huge pistons and cogs and turbines. Long, winding conveyor belts. Gigantic metal claws and enormous compressors. All frozen in inactivity. Tee was now stationary amongst the machinery, eyes darting about, searching.

They heard a scream, followed by two gunshots. The sounds echoed through the room, as if they were coming from within the machinery itself. Tee turned helplessly from one direction to another, unable to discern where the scream had originated.

BANG!

The door at the other end of the factory was thrown open as a young woman dressed in black leather came running out, trying to load a pistol. Behind her, two VIs streaked out in pursuit.

‘Hope!’ Tee yelled, as he ran towards her.

The woman weaved around some machinery and headed towards him, the two sizzling pursuers still behind her. Tee lifted his crossbow.

‘Drop!’ he yelled.

Zyra nudged Tark and they both aimed their crossbows.

The young woman threw herself to the concrete floor, rolling to one side as Tee fired. The crossbow bolt struck the first of the VIs, which immediately stopped dead as if stunned, its edges flaring and dissolving, its size decreasing. Tark and Zyra simultaneously fired at the second. Both bolts struck home and the ball of static menace burst apart, its substance dissipating into nothingness.

The young woman rolled into a crouch, slammed a new magazine into her pistol and took aim at the first VI. Tee was already reloading.

The VI recovered and charged at Tark and Zyra. They franticly reloaded their weapons, but the young woman fired first. Two successive shots, sending the VI into oblivion. Springing to her feet, she tossed her gun into the air, caught it, spun it on her finger like a Wild West gunslinger and dropped it into the holster on her belt.

‘Nice,’ Tark said to himself, as he watched her stride across the factory floor towards Tee, her long legs crossing the distance quickly. ‘Oh, yeah. Verym.ce.’

Zyra elbowed him in the ribs. ‘Wot?’

As she reached Tee, the young woman threw her arms around him. Tee hugged her tightly. As Tark and Zyra approached, she pulled away.

‘Thanks,’ she said.

Tark and Zyra stared at her, mouths agape. She was a striking figure, with a padded leather jacket and pants, dark-coloured sneakers and fingerless gloves dotted with rusty studs across the knuckles. She looked about eighteen, with long red hair tied into a ponytail and intense violet eyes ... and a face that looked too much like Zyra’s to be a coincidence.

‘Ya is his daughter,’ said Tark, casting an astonishedglance at Tee. ‘But, ya looks like Zyra.’

‘My name is Hope,’ she said to Tark. ‘Tee is my father. My mother was-’

‘Me!’ Zyra blurted out. Tee nodded.

‘Huh?’ Tark’s astonishment turned to confusion.

In earlier version of me,’ explained Zyra. She stared at Tee. ‘When I first saw ya, I thoughts ya might be Tark’s old man.’ She paused. ‘But yar not, are ya?’

‘No,’ said Tee. ‘The relationship is a lot closer than that.’

‘Ya mean . ..’Tark’s voice petered out as realisation dawned.

‘My name used to be Tark,’ said Tee. Sadness washed over his face and he lowered his eyes. ‘But when my wife died - when
my
Zyra died - I couldn’t use that name any more.’

‘Ya is me.’ Tark stared incredulously at Tee, then shifted his gaze to Hope. ‘That means ya is my ...’ Tark’s face turned red.

Hope lifted a gloved hand and waved, grinning broadly.

Tark looked to Zyra and saw the devastated expression on her face. His shoulders sagged and he slowly turned to face Tee.

‘We ain’t the first,’ he whispered, barely able to get the words out.

‘We is just copies,’ said Zyra.

Their minds reeled with the revelation. To be a created character in a game was bad enough - to be a copy of a created character was completely demoralising. Zyra felt her knees weaken. She took hold of Tark’s arm to steady hersel£ His hand grabbed onto hers and held tight, a slight tremor running through it as he drew in a long, slow breath.

‘You started out as copies,’ said Tee. ‘As did I.’ Helooked at Tark and Zyra’s shocked expressions. ‘Yes, there were others before me. Like me, you became individuals. If the two of you were just copies, you would still be playing the game. But there will be enough time for explanations later.’ Tee looked at Hope. ‘Stine?’

The young woman shook her head sadly.

‘Tell me what happened,’ said Tee.

‘We came here to salvage materials for the pro£ Next thing I know, there are four of them swooping in through the door. We got one then ran.’ She paused.

‘Stine wasn’t fast enough. I tried to help but-’

‘Four!’ blurted Zyra.

Hope scowled at her in annoyance.

‘There were four of them VI things,’ continued

Zyra, releasing her grip on Tark. ‘Ya gots one at the start. We gots another two just then.’

‘We need to get out of here,’ said Hope.

‘Wot’s that?’ asked Tark.

In the distance they could hear whistling.

They all turned to look at the main door as a man entered from the darkness of the corridor. Dressed all in green with a peacock feather in his cap, he walked in, casually tossing a red ruby from one hand to the other. He was whistling a happy little tune.

At that very moment the final VI came shooting through the opposite door.

‘Run for the exit,’ yelled Tee.

Tark, Zyra and Hope bolted. They were past the man and halfway down the corridor before they realised that Tee had not followed them. All three stopped and turned back. As they approached the door, they saw Tee running at the man in green, the VI literally a hand-span behind.Just as he was about to collide with the stranger, Tee threw himself to one side. The VI connected with the whistling man. The two entities froze in their moment of collision.

Eyes wide, Tark and Zyra watched as the man wastaken apart. They had only seen bolts and throwing stars and other inanimate objects disassembled. Watching it happen to a person was another thing altogether. They knew they should be using the time to run away or fire their weapons. But they simply watched in horrified fascination, as outer layers of clothes and skin disappeared to reveal bones and muscles and internal organs, which in turn were also deleted.

As the last trace of the man vanished, the air filledwith the most ghastly screeching noise they had ever heard, like worlds screaming as they are torn apart. A huge gash of light split through the air and widened to reveal the static Interface of Designers Paradise. It was as if the very fabric of their reality, their World, was being torn open to reveal the unreality behind it. The VI was sucked through the tear and then, with another ear-splitting sound, the wound healed itself, disappearing as if it had never been there.

In its place stood the man dressed in green, faceblank, totally immobile. As Tee slowly got to his feet, the man in green started to move. First he tossed the ruby from one hand to the other, then he started whistling, and finally he walked off, across the factory floor and through the door at the end.

‘Wot just ‘appened?’ asked Zyra, as Tee joined them.

‘The VI took out an essential character,’ explained Tee. ‘I don’t think they’re allowed to do that. So, as well as the character being replaced, the VI was removed.’