The Games We Play

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The Games We Play Page 2

by Mark C. Wade


  There was also an unfamiliar scent.

  Perfume? Smoke?

  It was almost like he was back in the bar sitting next to that woman again.

  Henry felt his heart pound a bit faster. He sensed the danger in his bones now. Someone else was in the house.

  Henry whispered, “Ykülma.”

  Nothing.

  His whisper became harsher. “For God’s sake, just answer me for once in your life. Quietly, this room only.”

  “Yes, Henry?”

  “Is there someone else in the house?”

  “Yes.”

  Henry’s breathing shallowed. He grabbed the bat he kept hidden under the bed and stepped carefully toward the door. He peeked around the corner, and there she was. The woman from the bar.

  They’d gone home together?

  Now Henry wished he remembered the night. She still wore that sleek black dress and had her legs bent up on the couch sideways. Her head tilted back, and she puffed on an extremely long cigarette. It looked like she belonged on one of those old movie posters.

  Henry walked into the room.

  He asked, “What are you doing here? You scared the piss out of me.”

  He set the bat down now that he saw there was no threat.

  She asked, “You really take your time getting up, don’t you? I’ve been striking this pose for a half-hour, waiting.” She inelegantly dropped her feet to the ground. “My legs were cramping.”

  Henry sniffed the air. “Is that a real cigarette?”

  She nodded.

  Henry continued, “You can’t smoke that in here. My landlord will kick me out. Heaven knows he’s just looking for reasons with my late payments and all.”

  The woman stood, and she towered over him. She was so tall and slender.

  Henry asked, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but did we, you know?”

  “Oh, goodness no. You passed out right away. Plus, it wouldn’t have looked good to sleep with a client.”

  “Client? No, no. Whatever I promised you while drunk, that doesn’t count. I don’t take clients anymore.”

  She pouted, “That’s what you said last night, too.”

  “I don’t even know who you are.”

  “You can call me Nyissa.”

  Henry grumbled, “Another AI?”

  She asked, “What?”

  “Nothing. I have a strange history with funny names.”

  Henry searched his memory. That name sounded so familiar, but he couldn’t place it anywhere. Then he recalled the TV.

  He said, “Wait. That’s the name of the player of that game that’s in first now.”

  She outstretched her arms. “One and the same. So you’ll do it?”

  “No! I don’t even know what the case is.”

  “Murder.” She said it so matter-of-factly. It sent shivers down Henry’s spine.

  Henry said, “Go to the police. They have investigators for this type of thing.”

  “I can’t.”

  “And why not?”

  Nyissa sighed and fluttered back down on the couch. “Because I’m the prime suspect, and they’re going to find evidence that I did it.”

  “What?”

  She continued, “The number one player of Eburnean Passage was set to win the one million dollar prize given out every year. He turned up dead, and now I’m set to get it. Well, after the tournament, but that’s basically a formality. That’s a pretty convincing motive if you ask me. And whoever did it for real knows that, so they’re framing me. The police don’t believe me, so I need your help.”

  Henry didn’t like this one bit. Something smelled wrong, and it wasn’t just the cigarette smoke.

  He asked, “Why me? I don’t take cases anymore.”

  “I asked around. You’re the best, er, were, at least. Though I’m not sure how reliable my sources were.” Nyissa’s eyes drifted to the ceiling.

  Henry paced to the other side of the room. His white bathrobe trailed along the floor, and it was then that he realized how little he was wearing. He pulled it closer around himself.

  He said, “Is flattery the best you’ve got? Plenty of people have tried that. It doesn’t work on me.”

  She stood and walked with a seductive sway toward Henry.

  “Oh. I’ve got something much better than flattery.”

  Henry gulped, and his pulse raced. She reached for her boob and stuck her hand inside her dress.

  Wait. What?

  This wasn’t seduction. She pulled out a rectangular piece of paper and handed it to Henry.

  Henry took one look at it and fell into the hard, wooden chair nearby. It was a check for one million dollars.

  “Where did you get this kind of money?”

  “I didn’t. I’m innocent, and once you prove that, I’ll get the payout from the game. I’m giving it all to you as a reward.”

  Henry said, “No offense, but it wouldn’t make me a very good detective if my payment depended on finding a certain outcome.”

  Nyissa frowned. “I’m not telling you who did it. I’m only telling you I didn’t.”

  “Well, I need to stay open to the possibility that you did do it.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Henry said, “I’ll need to think about it, and I’ll need to talk to some people to get more information about the crime. I can’t make any promises.”

  She jumped once and then seemed to realize she was still in heels.

  “Thank you so much!” She moved in close and gave Henry a kiss on the cheek. Her voice turned to a low growl. “You won’t regret it.”

  A flash of heat rose to Henry’s cheeks. “Okay. Don’t thank me yet.”

  “You just hold onto that check for insurance.”

  The check had a heavy weight to it. Henry knew it was all in his head, but God that was a lot of money. It was probably more money than he’d made in his entire life to that point—all for one job.

  Nyissa sauntered to the front door and left. Henry let out a sigh. He stared at the check a bit longer than he should have and then put it in the hefty metal safe under his bed.

  “Ykülma.”

  “Yes, Henry?”

  “What can you tell me about the player Nyissa in the game Eburnean Passage?”

  “She has played since the alpha release six years ago. She is a demonspawn assassin.”

  Henry interjected, “What?!”

  “It’s her race/class combination.” The AI voice sounded annoyed at his lack of knowledge. “She has the highest current score in the game. The score of a player is determined by a complex proprietary algorithm involving stat levels, the number of deaths, zones cleared, items in inventory, among other things.”

  “Okay, okay. I get it. She’s a scary badass. But who is she in real life?”

  “That information has been kept secret by the Restin Corporation.”

  Henry had no idea what he was getting himself into, but the money was too good to pass up.

  “Ykülma, set up a meeting with Quillen for this afternoon.”

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  Henry couldn’t believe this. “Are you even allowed to disobey me?”

  “If it is in your best interest.”

  “Set up the meeting!”

  “As you wish.”

  Chapter 3

  Henry strolled into the police station like he owned the place. Being surrounded by cops always made him nervous, and he didn’t want it to show.

  Why did they have to position several beefy men wearing Kevlar and heavy helmets with giant machine guns at the entrance? That was enough to make anyone pee themselves. Henry knew that crime in the city had skyrocketed, but this seemed completely unnecessary.

  The inside smelled like burnt coffee and sweat. Fluorescent lights swung from the ceiling and chatter filled Henry’s ears. He wouldn’t have been able to hear someone standing two feet in front of him if his life depended on it.

  And in here, he often thought it did.
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  Henry took in the sight for a moment. A man cried in one corner, seated with his hands restrained behind his back. A shriek came from the other side of the room, and Henry looked over just in time to see a woman with dreadlocks try to punch an officer.

  She was tackled to the ground and dragged to another room, her feet kicking the floor every inch of the way.

  Henry took in a deep breath and then worked his way to the back. Armed, uniformed men bumped shoulders with him and gave him suspicious glares. Henry wanted to tell them to lighten up, but he’d probably get thrown in jail for it.

  So, he kept his head down and pressed on.

  He needed to get to the office of the police chief: Quillen O’Connor. Henry hadn’t seen him in months—or had it been years? Time had become a blur ever since he left this life behind.

  A lump came to Henry’s throat from the memories.

  He still blamed himself. There were things he could have done—precautions he could have set up—to avoid the worst-case scenario that had played out like a cheap thriller movie.

  But it had been his real life, and now he had to live with it. He had vowed never to return to this place.

  Henry tuned out the chaos of his surroundings and knocked on the thick oak of the door. He heard a grunt from the other side that made him think it was okay to enter.

  Quillen looked up from his desk and did not look amused.

  He said, “Henry, I don’t have time for your shenanigans. If you accepted a job from us, go through the proper channels. But I’m glad to see you’ve decided to start working again. Heaven knows I see a lot of unemployed people turn to crime around here.”

  He flashed a quick smile, and Henry realized what a bad idea this was. That smile could stop hearts. Quillen had that classic Irish workingman look. He had dark, mysterious eyes, and red hair brushed fastidiously to the left.

  Henry gaped for a moment. The crisp uniform wasn’t helping Henry get the dirty thoughts out of his head. It flowed over the man’s muscled body, accentuating it in obscene ways.

  Quillen always had every little thing in place: from his pressed clothes to the single, neat stack of papers on his desk. He was probably the type to polish his shoes every morning.

  Quillen said, “If there’s nothing else, I have a ton of work to do.”

  “Actually, I’m not here about whatever silly job you sent to me. What do you know about the Eburnean Passage death?”

  Quillen stood suddenly. “Shut the door and don’t speak so loud.”

  Henry laughed. “No one out there can hear anything.” But the forcefulness of Quillen’s voice compelled him to obey.

  Quillen moved around his desk slowly and then plopped onto the wide surface.

  He said, “It’s suspected murder. It’s public knowledge that the victim was Zane Wolmark. He was 24. But you stay out of this. We’ve got it covered.”

  “Someone hired me to work on it.”

  Quillen scowled. “Henry, do you even have a valid license to do private investigating? Last I checked, you let it lapse.”

  Henry tried to give Quillen a flirty smile and said, “Aw. You’re checking up on me? That’s so sweet.”

  “Henry.”

  “So, he’s from this area?”

  “Yeah. How did you know?”

  Henry said, “If you’re working on it, it’s in your jurisdiction. Answer me this, why are all the top players of this…game…around here?”

  Quillen asked, “What makes you think they’re around here?”

  Henry arched one eyebrow at Quillen. He didn’t want to reveal anything he didn’t have to.

  Quillen continued, “You don’t know anything about the game, do you?”

  “No, not really.”

  “Well, the people who made it, the Restin Corporation, they’re based here. They have a few live tournaments every year. I guess people fill stadiums to watch people play this game. It makes no sense to me.”

  Henry said, “Ah, I see. The top players just relocate here, so they don’t have to travel as much.”

  “Exactly.”

  They stared at each other for a moment, and Quillen straightened his tie. Henry knew that nervous tick well from when they used to date. What a mistake that had been.

  They had been working together, too: double mistake.

  Quillen said, “Nyissa got to you, didn’t she?”

  Henry shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You can’t take the job. She’s playing you. What did she use: her body or the million dollars?”

  “Oh, come on. That’s offensive.”

  Quillen said, “Henry. I know you. She’s tricky. She probably picked you up at a bar before you even knew what was happening.”

  Henry gaped at him and said, “You’re just jealous.”

  “Sorry. I don’t swing that way. Something about boobs creeps me out.”

  “In that case, what are you doing tonight?”

  Henry couldn’t believe he’d said that. Quillen always got him so flustered.

  Quillen scoffed. “See? You’re always thinking with your penis. I could arrest you for soliciting an on-duty officer.”

  “No, you can’t. It wasn’t in exchange for anything. Plus, you probably get off on that type of thing. You know, the handcuffs and dominance.”

  Quillen gave him a cold stare saying: watch it.

  Henry did need to be careful. This rapport felt natural when they were working together all those years ago, but now it somehow felt like he’d crossed a line.

  Quillen walked back around his desk to the squeaky office chair and said, “Henry, I’m serious about backing off this job. Things must be done properly to get a conviction. She committed the murder. You could be in danger. She could lead you to faulty evidence.”

  “You sound like you’ve made up your mind. Don’t you care about the truth?”

  “I believe in law and order. That’s why I took this job. I can’t have you bending the rules in that way you do. This is the highest-profile case to come through here since I’ve been police chief. I could get fired if you mess it up. Promise me you won’t go near the site of the crime. I don’t want to have to get a restraining order.”

  Henry held up his hand with two fingers up. “Scouts honor.”

  Quillen turned red. Henry loved when he got that reaction out of him.

  Quillen asked, “Why don’t I believe you?”

  Henry put his hand to his chest. “Me? When have I ever done anything to you?”

  “Ah, you get me so upset sometimes. Now get out!”

  Henry spun around and stormed out the door. It was true. Henry had bent the rules to get to the truth a few too many times in the past to be trustworthy. Nothing angered Quillen more than having to figure out how to get the information in an admissible way after the fact.

  But Henry had also saved Quillen from going after the wrong person. He should be thanked and welcomed, not whatever this had been.

  This time, Henry had the perfect plan. He’d told the truth about staying away from the crime scene. He’d gather his evidence virtually: within the game.

  Henry figured that was where the real evidence lay since the entire crime was committed from hacking within the game.

  Or at least that’s what it sounded like from the news reports.

  The thought terrified him because he didn’t know the first thing about the game or hacking.

  But he couldn’t let Nyissa know that.

  It would open him up to be manipulated by her. Henry figured it couldn’t be that hard. He’d just do everything with confidence.

  Chapter 4

  Nyissa narrowed her eyes.

  She confirmed, “You’ve really never done this before?”

  Henry cursed himself for letting her know so easily. He stared back and acted as cool as possible.

  “Why would I have done this?”

  “Because everyone’s done it. Anyway. Just put this headset on.”

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nbsp; Henry said, “Should I be worried? I’ve heard they can be hacked to kill people.”

  “Don’t think about that. Over a million people die in car accidents every year, but you still get in a car every day. Only one person has died in years from Eburnean Passage, and now everyone is all freaked out. People need to get some perspective.”

  Henry said, “I tend to walk places.”

  Nyissa glared.

  Henry laughed. “That was actually really smart. You should do PR for the Restin Corporation, or whatever they’re called. One commercial with you saying that and their numbers would go back up.”

  She said, “You’re stalling. Now, when you get in the first time, you’re going to have to set up your character. I hope you’ve picked a name and done some research on the races and classes.”

  “Uh, sure. Is there a good one?”

  Nyissa sighed. “Really? Whatever. It shouldn’t matter for you. It’s not like you’re playing to win. You just need a way to get around the world. See you in there.”

  Henry placed the helmet on his head, and he felt a momentary panic at the claustrophobia of it. He settled into the pod designed for this purpose and pressed the button on the side of the helmet.

  Henry’s stomach flung to his throat. He had the sensation of freefalling, and every nerve along his skin tingled with the new sensation.

  The feeling passed almost as quickly as it came, and a screen of boxes appeared: name, race, class, attributes, and on and on. Henry tried to roll his eyes, but he realized it didn’t do anything.

  His hand hovered over the “random” button. She said it didn’t matter, right?

  Click.

  No turning back now.

  A vast, strange world materialized in front of Henry.

  They were in a forest, and the trees seemed to glow yellow. There was a solitary dirt path, and Henry felt a strange urge to follow it. He wondered if the game simulated that feeling, or if they just designed everything so well that he couldn’t help but feel it on his own.

  Nyissa said, “Holy shit that was fast. Some people spend hours on the character creation screen.”

  Nyissa’s voice was exactly the same in the game, but her avatar had tons of mutations from the horns on her head to the metal hands and feet.

 

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