ArcadiA: A Game Space FastRead

by Peter Jay Black

  I stood, and turned to Nix.

  He grinned. “Nice bit of detective work.” He beckoned. “Now, let’s go find your brother.”

  We followed the main path from the jungle and stopped at a door eight feet wide, recessed in a tall hedgerow. A sign read: Park Personnel Only. Keep Out. Nix swiped his pass over the electronic lock several times before it finally beeped and turned green.

  We stepped through and he tried his card on the reader on the other side, but the light remained red. “I meant to get a new security card ages ago but I keep forgetting. Grab this, would you?”

  I held the door open as Nix stepped back into the jungle for a moment, then returned with a rock which he used to prop open the door.

  He stepped back, lips pursed. “Don’t tell anyone I’ve done that. Not exactly in the rules.” He shrugged. “Anyway, we shouldn’t be long.”

  I turned around and found myself in a courtyard surrounded by a stone balustrade. We were outside the jungle, behind the scenes, hidden from the park guests. Narrow roads ran between buildings, alive with bean-shaped vehicles.

  I pointed to one. “What’s that?”

  “What’s what?” Nix followed my finger. “Oh, a pod. They’re the quickest way around ArcadiA. Come on.”

  We jogged down a flight of steps to the street, and when we reached the kerb, Nix held up a hand. A red pod the size of a compact car slid to a halt in front of us. The side of it opened on a hinge and I bent to look inside.

  There were three seats and a display panel. Apart from that, the interior was plain. No seatbelts. No steering wheel. No buttons or levers.

  Nix jumped in.

  I peered underneath the bodywork. There were no wheels either—the pod hovered a few inches off the ground. “How does it do that?”

  “Refracting gravity field,” Nix said. “It’s perfectly safe.”

  I glanced back at the door and the jungle beyond. “Where are we going?”

  “Each park has its own security station,” Nix said.

  “No.” I stepped backward, shaking my head.

  Nix smirked. “You are in trouble, aren’t you? What did you do?”

  I took another step, ready to run back into the jungle.

  Nix raised his hands. “Look, you’re with me now. No one is going to detain you without my say-so. I’m guessing you snuck into the park somehow?” He offered me a smile. “I get it. It’s fine. You’re looking for your brother.” He thought for a moment. “We’ll use the cameras to find him. It’s the best and quickest way.”

  I hesitated, then realising that I was acting like a frightened child, and still had no other way to find Matt, I climbed in.

  The side of the pod closed and a pair of eyes appeared on a display mounted to the dashboard. They spun in invisible sockets then locked on to Nix. “Destination?” a high-pitched squeak asked.

  Nix frowned at it. “What’s wrong with your voice?”

  “I’m sorry, sir.” It sounded like a chipmunk. “My speech algorithm has a g—glitch.”

  I leaned over to Nix and murmured, “Can we get another one?”

  He kept his attention on the eyes. “Anything else wrong with you?”

  “No, sir,” the shrill voice said. “Ev-erything is kayokay.”

  “Fantastic.” Nix sat back. “Take us to Baytopia security station.”

  The front and sides of the pod turned transparent and other pods glided past us. They looked so strange; they had— A jolt slammed me back into the seat as our pod shot up the road.

  Nine

  The pod weaved through traffic at blistering speed, throwing Nix and me around like seeds in a maraca. I gripped the edge of the seat, my knuckles white, as I tried to hold on. “Is this normal?”

  We overtook a green pod and almost collided with another one coming in the opposite direction.

  “Slow down,” Nix ordered it.

  Our pod ignored him, and a group of park workers on the side of the road jumped clear as it slid sideways, missing the corner of a maintenance building by an inch.

  “I thought you said this thing was safe?” I clapped a hand over my mouth as we careened around another corner, pretty sure we were about to die.

  “It is safe,” Nix said, although he didn’t look convinced.

  The pod rammed into the rear of another blue pod and pushed it out of the way. As it spun past the window, I struggled not to hyperventilate. I hated being out of control, and here I was in a vehicle threatening my life. “Let me out.” We nudged two more pods aside and sailed around yet another corner.

  “Hey, wait a minute,” Nix said to the display. “You can’t go this way.”

  The eyes spun to face him, “Kayokay,” and swivelled back.

  Nix tensed. “Oh no.”

  I was about to ask what the matter was when I spotted the fifteen-foot-high wall blocking the end of the road. Desperate, I searched for a door handle but couldn’t find one. “Stop it.”

  “I can’t, I don’t have any tools on me.” Nix’s eyes widened. “Hold on.” He lifted his legs and braced his feet against the front of the cabin.

  I did the same, squeezed my eyes closed, and hoped fate would be kind. Please?

  The pod slammed into the wall, shuddered, then bounced and smashed its way through. My eyes flew open in horror as blocks slid over the roof.

  But despite the bone-shaking impact, the pod didn’t slow. It continued to race on as if nothing had happened. We sped through a construction site, and people and machines jumped out of the way.

  I ran my fingers along the edge of the door, looking for a way to rip off the side panel and expose the mechanism beneath.

  “I’ll cut the power. I’ve just remembered there’s an emergency shutoff switch.” Nix reached under the dash, but the pod took another sharp turn and knocked the base of a scaffolding tower. It tipped, and for one horrifying moment it hung motionless, then came crashing down around us. We rammed our way through the debris and out to the other side of the construction yard.

  After side-swiping a truck laden with building materials, the pod veered across another street and carried on. Angry workers shook their fists at us.

  Nix winced. “They don’t look happy.”

  “It’s not our fault,” I said. “This thing’s gone mad.”

  The eyes on the display glared at me. “Thing?” it said. “Mad?” They spun back and the pod surged forward, slamming Nix and me into our seats.

  “Oh, brilliant,” Nix said. “Now you’ve pissed it off.”

  “What?” I said. “It’s got feelings?”

  He shrugged. “Basic ones, yeah.”

  “How was I supposed to know that?”

  The pod hurtled down the street, scraped between two other stationary pods, wobbled for a second, and sped on.

  “No, no, no,” Nix shouted.

  My head snapped forward again. “Now what?”

  Nix pointed to a monument, thirty feet tall, of a man wearing a long coat with a hood, leaning against a rectangular monolith. The statue sat in the centre of an intersection. Other pods drove around it. We rushed directly toward it.

  “Lucian Knight.” Nix dropped to the floor and reached under the dash again, searching. “My dad’s hero—the original Bluestone discoverer.”

  I had the distinct feeling that the statue meant a great deal to all the people of ArcadiA, and they probably wouldn’t like it to get damaged. Also, something told me the pod wouldn’t sustain a direct hit at our current speed. The front of it was already half the length it had been before.

  I reached under the dashboard too, trying to find the emergency stop button he’d mentioned, or failing that, any cables I could pull out, but I only felt smooth plastic.

  Nix swore. “It’s no use. I forgot, this is the updated version.” He sat back. “We’re doomed.”

  “No.” As I turned to the door, warmth radiated from the bracelet into my arm, and energy from my palm slammed into the door, which buckled outward. I recoiled a
nd looked at Nix, but he hadn’t noticed. His eyes remained locked ahead.

  We hurtled across the intersection, knocking pods out of the way, spinning them off like lottery balls. Then, as though someone had pressed a secret brake pedal, the pod slammed to an abrupt halt and we flew forward, hitting the windshield.

  I fell back, rubbing my sore forehead. “What happened?”

  Before Nix could answer, the eyes on the display turned to us. “Lucian Knight,” they said, and blinked. “Greeet man.” The eyes spun back and the pod twisted around, throwing Nix and me to the side as it accelerated around the statue. We leaned over so hard that I thought the pod would roll over, but by some miracle it managed to stay upright.

  After hitting several more stationary pods, we came to a juddering halt outside a single-storey red building.

  “Des—nation arrivad,” the eyes said, as if proud of themselves. “Baytoop Secure Station.”

  “Baytopia Security Station,” Nix corrected it.

  The door opened, and I clambered out as fast as I could.

  The pod was a mess—the front of it had caved in, scratches and dents riddled the bodywork, and it now leaned over, hovering at an angle.

  Nix got out too and turned back to the spinning eyes on the display. “Check yourself into maintenance.”

  “S—s—sure.” One eye winked. “Kayokay, sir.”

  The side of the pod slammed shut and it flew back into traffic, scattering other pods like frightened birds.

  Nix slapped me on the back. “Sorry about that,” he said. “This way.” He guided me toward the red building.

  A glowing sign above it read Baytopia Security Station, and I wondered if this nightmare would ever end.

  Ten

  Nix and I strode across the foyer of the security station and stopped at a counter with a glass divider. On the other side, a computer terminal sat on a desk, and a door stood ajar. Beyond, came the glow of CCTV monitors.

  Taped to the glass was a scrawled note:

  Back in ten minutes.

  “That’s weird,” Nix said. “There should be someone staffing this place at all times. No exceptions.” He scratched his head. “Unless they changed the rules and I forgot.”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “You can remember the entire employee handbook, but not any recent rule changes?”

  He shrugged, knocked on the glass, and leaned to one side, trying to peer through the doorway opposite. “Hello? Guys?” No answer. “Guess they must have gone somewhere. Can’t think where, though.” Nix sniffed the air. “Lunch?”

  I inhaled an aroma of something burnt and looked around the foyer, but apart from a mop and bucket propped next to a potted plant as though someone had recently abandoned them, there were no other signs of life. “How many guards are there usually?”

  “At least three. One on the front desk, the other two out back. They swap around every hour.” Nix tried the door to the side. “Locked.” He gave me a puzzled glance, then banged his fists on the glass. “Hey. Anyone in there?”

  I pointed. “Look.” On the floor by the open office door was a puddle of water leading around the corner.

  “Someone spill their drink?” Nix asked.

  I shook my head. “Too much liquid. More than a pint. Unless any of them drink from a bucket?” Growing uneasy, my eyes scanned the room. “Is there a sink in there? Has it overflowed?” It didn’t feel right.

  By his expression, Nix knew something was up too. “I’m calling Dad.” He pulled back his sleeve, revealing a white band, and raised it to his face. He stared at the display. “What’s going on?”

  “What now?” I said.

  “No signal.” Nix’s eyebrows pulled together. “I always get a good signal. There’s something freaky happening.” He marched to the main doors.

  I followed him outside and down the front path. At the end, Nix stopped, studying his band’s display. “Here we go.” He cleared his throat. “Call Dad.”

  I stared at the building with its low roof and windowless design. My gaze rested on an alarm box mounted high on the front wall, toward the top corner. My viewpoint shot forward, zooming in. I let out an involuntary yelp and the view snapped back to normal, almost making me topple over.

  Nix looked about. “What?”

  “Nothing.” Warmth radiated into my arm from the bracelet. Bluestone? I thought. Did the magical crystals do that zooming thing? The same ones in the bracelet that had allowed me to pass through the ticket barrier earlier?

  I looked up at the alarm box again and my view zoomed forward, focussing on several frayed wires jutting from the top. Not very secure for a security station. Or has that got something to do with the missing guards? Did someone deliberately cut them?

  “What can I do for you, son?” a voice said.

  My view returned to normal and I faced Nix.

  He murmured into his band, “I think we’ve got a problem.” Nix glanced about him and lowered his voice further. “I’m not sure. Something odd.” He described the unmanned desk, the note, the water on the floor, and the lack of any on-duty security personnel.

  After a pause, his dad said, “I’ll unlock the internal security door remotely. You need to check it out in case someone’s hurt. But any signs of trouble, you get out and wait for us. Nothing heroic. Understood?”

  “Yeah,” Nix said. “Got it.”

  “I’ll come down with my security team. Be there in a few minutes.”

  Nix lowered his arm and with mounting unease, we hurried back up the front path and stepped inside the building.

  Once in the lobby, Nix put his hand on the door handle to the office. “Keep back. I have no idea what we might find.”

  Heart hammering in my chest, feeling massively out of my depth, I gave him a nod.

  Nix opened the door.

  We made our way across the front office, my senses on high alert, but spotting nothing out of the ordinary. We reached the back office door and looked down at the puddle. Definitely water and nothing more sinister. Thank goodness.

  Nix pushed the door fully open.

  Twenty CCTV screens filled the right-hand wall, each divided into nine separate images. No wonder it took two guards to staff the station. I scanned the displays, searching for Matt. Not finding him, I turned my attention to the rest of the room.

  A workbench jutted out from beneath the screens, fitted with more embedded displays and controls. There were also two office chairs, both facing away.

  Nix and I crept further inside, looking around us. The opposite wall held a black, hollow box, a drinks maker above it, and another door to the side.

  I followed the pool of water to a cupboard, then gestured and whispered, “It’s coming from in there.’

  Nix tiptoed over, peered all around the cabinet, and then opened the doors.

  Inside were shelves filled with cleaning supplies. At the bottom of the cabinet lay piles of wet towels.

  His brow furrowed. “What’s going on?” Nix looked back at the CCTV monitors.

  I stepped over to them, scanning the various images from around Baytopia—the boat rides filled with guests, the jungle, the animal enclosures . . . My gaze moved down to the control console and I stared at it.

  Nix stood beside me, shaking his head. “I really don’t understand any of this.”

  I knelt so that my eyes were level with the desk.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  I ran my finger over the surface of the console. “It’s wet.”

  “Wet?” Nix said with an incredulous expression. “Why’s it wet?”

  I straightened up. “Is there another way out of the building?”

  Nix gestured to the door opposite. “Emergency exit that way.”

  I followed him into a narrow corridor, and after checking the first door on our left—an empty bathroom—we proceeded to the end of the hallway and a door with an emergency exit sign.

  Nix stopped short and I almost banged into him.

  He gesture
d. “It’s open.” Sure enough, the exit door stood ajar. Nix pushed it open.

  Beyond was a forecourt, thirty feet on each side, enclosed by a chain-link fence. Opposite was a closed gate, but there was no sign of a lock.

  Finding nothing else out of the ordinary, Nix and I returned to the security office and studied the array of CCTV screens. He scratched his head. “All looks normal.”

  I was about to agree when I saw something that made me catch my breath. I raised a shaking finger and pointed at a screen toward the middle. The image showed the river boat ride, only there, in the middle row, on the right-hand side, was Black Beard. And one row behind him was, “Me,” I breathed.

  These CCTV images were not live.

  Stomach tightening, I looked down at the wet console, then the puddle of water, the open cupboard and the soaked towels. Then I remembered the burning smell, the mop and bucket, and the alarm box with its frayed wires, and all the clues clicked into place.

  This is a game, I thought, my confidence growing. I’m inside a mystery game. One that I need to solve in order to find Matt.

  I lifted my chin. “I know what’s happened here.”

  Eleven

  I was about to explain my theory to Nix when a striking middle-aged man with white hair stepped into the office. He had dark skin, pale-blue eyes, and wore a white suit, white gloves and shoes, all edged in glowing neon-blue piping.

  Three bald, hulking security guards, dressed in contrasting jet-black uniforms and wearing silver-banded sunglasses, followed him in. They checked the room’s corners, while their hands hovered over rectangular devices on their belts, in the same fashion as the purple-eyed security guard.

  I shrank away from them and tried to look inconspicuous, feeling out of place in an alien world.

  “Hey, Dad.” Nix waved a hand at me. “This is Kira. A park guest. I was helping look for her brother when we stumbled on this weirdness.”

  Nix’s dad extended his hand to me. “Delighted to meet you.” We shook and he smiled—a genuine one that reached his eyes—and I relaxed. I noted that in his other hand he gripped a walking cane topped with a blue crystal the size of a walnut. “My name is Jax Newton,” he said.