Gamers' Rebellion

by George Ivanoff

‘I don’ts care!’ yelled Tark. ‘Gets me out!’

  ‘We can’t,’ said Josie. ‘Sorry! It’s time limited. You’re stuck in there for another seven minutes. You’ve got to change environments … or RUN!’

  Tark struggled to his feet and took off as fast as he could – which wasn’t all that fast, as his feet kept sinking in the soft sand.

  BOOM!

  The ship fired again. Another cannonball came hurtling towards Tark. He heard it strike the ground behind him.

  ’I needs a gun!’ Tark screamed.

  He ground to a halt as a holographic display popped up in front of him. Images of firearms floated in the air. Tark rubbed his hands together with glee and poked a finger at the image of a shoulder-mounted rocket launcher.

  The image glowed red. Text appeared below it: Access denied. Insufficient game points.

  ‘Not fair!’ Tark looked at the smaller weapons.

  BOOM!

  Tark took off, running through the weapons display, the images dispersing. The cannonball hit the ground and he felt a spray of sand.

  ‘Change environments,’ he mumbled to himself, struggling on. ‘Gotta gets away from ’ere,’ he continued to mutter between breaths. ‘Thinks of something. Not a desert. No sands.’

  He risked a quick glance over his shoulder. The ship was much closer.

  BOOM!

  Tark put on an extra burst of speed. As the cannonball hit, he felt the ground shake. The force of the impact knocked him off his feet.

  Tark tried to think about the absence of sand as he sailed through the air. The only image his mind could form was … grass.

  14: Into the Game

  ‘Tark’s in the Game? How? Why?’ Zyra jumped up from the chair, ripping the headset off and tossing it to one side. She was back in Robert’s room, the images created by the headset, gone.

  ‘I cannot answer any of those questions.’ Robbie was standing by the wall of tech, hands moving across holographic displays, with a speed and dexterity that reminded Zyra of the Ultimate Gamer.

  ‘A downloaded Game entity re-entering the Game as a player,’ mused Robert. ‘I had considered the possibility, but …’ His voice rose with excitement. ‘Monitor it, Robbie. Record all the data.’

  ‘Monitoring and recording,’ said Robbie. ‘He is in the War of the Sands environment.’

  ‘What’s that?’ asked Zyra.

  ‘Dangerous,’ answered Robert, a hint of a smile on his lips. ‘He may need help.’

  ‘How do I get in?’ Zyra stalked over to Robbie.

  ‘It may be better if I handle this,’ said Robbie.

  Zyra wasn’t convinced.

  ‘I have got a link on Tark’s vital signs,’ Robbie announced. ‘They’re highly elevated.’

  ‘What does that mean?’ demanded Zyra.

  ‘He’s under stress.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘He must be in trouble,’ concluded Robert.

  ‘Get me in there now,’ demanded Zyra, striding up to Robbie. Then lowering her voice she added: ‘Or I’ll break every bone in your cloned body.’

  Robbie stared at her, genuine surprise in his eyes. Then he glanced back at Designer Prime.

  ‘Let her go,’ said Robert, without any hesitation. ‘You go as well to gather first hand data.’

  Robbie’s hands moved across holo-displays. ‘I am programming two doses of user controlled nanobots. This will allow us to change environments if necessary and exit when ready.’ He finished off with a flourish and took two syringes from a dispenser in the wall.

  ‘What are those for?’ asked Zyra.

  ‘You need to inject the nanobots,’ explained Robert. ‘They are what will enable you to re-enter the Game.’

  ‘You had better sit down,’ suggested Robbie.

  Zyra returned to the seat and Robbie approached her with the first syringe. He brought it up to her face and she held up her hand.

  ‘What are you doing with that?’

  ‘It needs to be injected into your eyeball,’ said Robbie.

  ‘You’ve gotta be kidding,’ said Zyra.

  ‘I did say that entering the Game was difficult,’ said Robert. ‘If we had more time, we could set up an IV. But we don’t. So the nanobots must be injected as close to the brain as possible. Theoretically we could inject it up your nose. Or in your ear. But we find that the eyeball works rather well.’ He paused. ‘Do you still want to go in?’

  ‘Yes!’ Zyra snapped without hesitation, leaning back into the chair.

  ‘Excellent!’

  Trying desperately to calm herself, Zyra concentrated on not blinking. Robbie leaned forward, bringing the needle towards her left eye. She watched it blur out of focus.

  ‘There are pain numbing nanobots,’ said Robbie. ‘Their effect is almost instantaneous.’

  Pain exploded through her eye. And then disappeared.

  The familiar grey static of the Interface rushed towards her and she was back in the Game.

  15: Machines

  Tark landed face first in a field of grass. He decided he didn’t like the taste.

  ‘Greats!’ he grumbled, staggering to his feet.

  The grass stretched out in front of him towards gently undulating hills in the distance.

  ‘Where are you?’ Josie’s voice piped up.

  ‘How in heck is I supposed to knows,’ snapped Tark.

  ‘Describe the environment,’ ordered Josie.

  ‘Green,’ answered Tark. ‘Lots and lots of grass.’ He looked up. ‘Dark grey cloudy sky.’ He looked to either side, then behind. ‘And trees. There is a forest behinds me. I is going to goes there. I knows forests.’

  ‘No people around?’

  ‘Yar not on about that again, are ya?’ asked Tark. ‘I was being shots at in the desert. I thinks that means I is able ta interact.’

  ‘We need to be certain.’

  ‘Damnit!’ snapped Tark, looking off into the distance. ‘Here I goes again.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘There is some sorts of machine thing coming over them hills at me,’ he explained. ‘Big. Real big! Belchin’ out lots of smoke.’

  It looked like a giant city-sized tractor, with massive wheels and enormous smokestacks reaching up toward the clouds. Tark followed the billows of grey up to the sky with his eyes.

  ‘They ain’t clouds,’ he whispered. ‘The sky is all covered in smoke.’

  ‘What was that?’

  ‘Neva minds.’ The loud, grinding sound of machinery brought his attention back down to earth. Tark looked back at the giant tractor-city. His eyes widened as he realised just how fast the contraption was travelling. ‘I got to gets to the forest. Nows!’

  Tark turned and ran. Grass, at least, was a lot easier to run through than sand. Behind him, he heard the grinding sound of machinery getting closer and closer.

  ‘What’s going on?’ asked Josie.

  ‘Not nows.’

  ‘But –’

  ‘Shuts ups,’ Tark panted.

  Reaching the safety of the trees, Tark stopped and looked around. The tractor-city was painfully grinding to a halt, steam expelling in gushes from exhaust pipes above the gargantuan wheels.

  It was now close enough for Tark to see that it was indeed a city. Huge metal structures grew out from the tractor-like base. In the shadow of five enormous smokestacks, hundreds of smaller ones belched grey smoke and black soot into the air.

  As Tark watched, an enormous drawbridge lowered from the hull. It crashed down onto the grass. Tark heard the clanging sound of metal on metal. It was like the sound of giant metal footsteps. And indeed it was.

  A gargantuan metal man lumbered down the ramp, clanging with each step. It was a bit like a robot – and yet unlike any robot he had ever seen. It was box-like and cumbersome, with pistons and gears spewing steam with every movement. Its eyes were like searchlights and its mouth like a fiery hell, flames and smoke visible through the gigantic rectangular slot.

  The metal man step
ped off the ramp and came to a stop. The clanging continued … as another metal monstrosity lumbered down the ramp. And another. And another.

  Tark didn’t wait around to see how many more there were. He ran!

  The trees and undergrowth were not too thick and the ground was not overly rough. Tark found it easy going, so it was not long before complacency tripped him up and he landed flat on his face beside a particularly large and leafy tree. In the distance he heard the sound of metal men crashing through the forest. Muttering curses, he went to push himself up, when a booted foot planted itself on the raised tree root right in front of his nose.

  It looked familiar. He lifted his eyes a little and saw a swish of red leather.

  ‘Tripping over your own feet? Lucky I’m here to help you up.’

  ‘Zyra!’ Tark gasped.

  Zyra extended her hand. Tark grabbed it and she pulled him to his feet. Seconds later, he had her in a tight embrace.

  The crashing sounds grew nearer.

  ‘Thank the Designers ya is okay,’ he breathed, then kissed her.

  ‘Don’t thank the Designers,’ Zyra spoke against his lips. ‘They’re not worth it.’ And then she kissed him back.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Josie’s voice shouted in Tark’s head.

  ‘Not now,’ Tark muttered.

  ‘Huh?’ Zyra pulled back from him, irritated.

  ‘No, no,’ said Tark. ‘Nots ya.’

  The sound of someone noisily clearing his throat made them spring apart.

  ‘There is a time and a place for everything,’ said Robbie, standing a few paces behind Zyra. ‘But this is neither the time nor the place for that. My data indicates that there are several armies converging on this area. And it is only a matter of time before the security program tracks us down.’

  ‘Who in heck is he?’ asked Tark.

  ‘Um …’ Zyra stared at Robbie. He had hair, arranged in a neat side part, eyebrows and lashes. ‘That’s Robbie. He’s a robot clone.’

  ‘How cans he be a robot and a clone?’ asked Tark.

  ‘Long story.’

  The sound of trees being ripped apart announced the arrival of the first of the metal men. Tark, Zyra and Robbie looked up to see the mechanical man’s chest plate swing open with a hiss of steam. The barrel of a gun extended out.

  ‘Now that’s a robot,’ yelled Tark, grabbing Zyra and pulling her to the ground.

  The gun boomed.

  ‘We do not appear to be the target,’ said Robbie, calmly.

  Tark and Zyra looked up to see where Robbie was pointing. High up in the air a gigantic airship was manoeuvring through the smoke. The shell stuck the gondola. There was an explosion and then flames and smoke belched from one side.

  The metal man’s gun burst into life a second time. There was a massive woof of flame as the entire airship disappeared in a huge burst of heat. Flaming wreckage rained down into the trees around them.

  ‘I really would advise vacating this environment,’ said Robbie.

  ‘How?’ asked Zyra.

  Fire spread through the trees while three more machine men crashed through the forest towards them. From the opposite direction they heard a mechanical droning sound, like a giant saw cutting through wood.

  The first mechanical man’s gun retracted, its chest plate swinging shut. It inclined its head, the beams from its searchlight eyes slicing through the accumulating smoke and focusing on Tark and Zyra. The two of them jumped to their feet.

  ‘I wants a weapon,’ announced Tark. ‘Shows me wots I can has.’

  A series of holographic images sprung up in front of him – several swords and a couple of knives.

  Zyra caught on quickly. ‘Available weapons!’

  Tark and Zyra made their selections as the metal man lifted its arm and an enormous Gatling gun popped up from a concealed hatch.

  Tark was now holding a sword and Zyra had two knives. They looked up into the barrel of the Gatling gun.

  ‘I don’t think they will be very effective,’ said Robbie. ‘Take my hands.’

  Tark and Zyra dropped their weapons and each took hold of a hand. The Gatling gun fired, bullets ripping up the vacant ground.

  ***

  Still holding Robbie’s hands, Tark and Zyra stood in a field of golden flowers, a blue-as-blue-can-be sky above them.

  ‘One minute to exit.’ Josie’s disembodied voice rang in Tark’s head. ‘Are you safe?’

  ‘I is fine,’ said Tark, dropping Robbie’s hand and looking around. ‘Wot is this place?’

  ‘I’ve been here before,’ said Zyra, looking around.

  ‘It’s Bobby’s thinking place,’ said Robbie.

  ‘Is Robert going to be joining us?’ asked Zyra.

  ‘No,’ answered Robbie. ‘When Designer Prime plays the Game, it is always as Bobby. I think he feels that Bobby would not necessarily be helpful right now.’

  ‘Wot is going on?’ demanded Tark. ‘I thoughts Bobby was this Ultimate Gamer. And he’s dead! Wot’s he gots to do with all this?’

  ‘It’s a bit difficult to explain,’ said Zyra. ‘Yes, Bobby died. But he’s Designer Prime in the outside world. So he could go into the Game and be Bobby again. He got us out of the Game.’ Zyra paused for a moment to think. ‘And this is Robbie. He’s a clone of Designer Prime. But he looks different on the outside.’

  ‘Fifteen seconds,’ said Josie.

  Zyra stared at Robbie. With hair and eyebrows and eyelashes, he didn’t look weird at all. In fact, he was quite good looking. A younger version of Robert. An older version of Bobby.

  Zyra smiled.

  Robbie smiled back.

  ‘Why the hell is ya still holding his hand?’ Tark blurted out.

  ‘Exit!’ Josie’s voice called out.

  And Tark was gone.

  ‘Tark! Why did you –’ Zyra hurriedly let go of Robbie’s hand. ‘What about us? How do we get out?’

  ‘Our nanobots were programmed for emergency exit,’ said Robbie. ‘We can exit at any time.’ He looked thoughtful before continuing, as if he were trying to decide whether or not to make a revelation. ‘You really must beware of the Designers. They are dangerous. And they play games with people’s lives.’

  ‘What about Robert?’

  ‘He is Designer Prime.’

  The flowers shifted,

  ‘What was that?’ asked Zyra.

  ‘The security program has located us,’ he said. ‘It is time to exit.’ He took her hand. ‘Ask Robert about the missing children.’

  And they were both gone.

  16: Kiss

  Tark’s eyes snapped open. Josie was staring down at him, face close to his. On impulse, he took her face in his hands and kissed her.

  It took her a moment to recover from the surprise and to pull back. She quickly jumped to her feet and stepped even further away, glaring at Tark.

  Tark, muscles still a little sluggish in responding, slowly sat up and then stood. He sniffed and wiped his sleeve across his nose, then faced Josie and smiled.

  Josie stepped forward …

  And punched him in the nose.

  It was not a particularly hard punch. But it did hurt. And it took Tark completely by surprise. He staggered but just managed to keep his footing. He put a hand to his face and wiped away a trickle of blood and a smear of green.

  ‘Do that again and I’ll …’ Josie clenched her fist again, leaving the threat hanging.

  ‘Wot?’ demanded Tark. ‘Sticks me in the eye with a needle?’

  Josie unclenched her fist.

  ‘Or zaps me so I can’t move?’ His jaw tightened. ‘Or kidnap me?’

  ‘If that’s what you do when you’re angry with someone … what happens when you like them?’ asked Josie.

  Tark stared at her for a moment, then his face broke into a smile and he chuckled.

  ‘I wuz confused,’ he said, looking a little embarrassed. ‘That’s all.’

  ‘Uh-ha,’ said Josie, nodding. ‘Fine. Let’s forget
it then.’

  ‘Yeah,’ agreed Tark. ‘Forgets it.’

  It was at that point that Tark realised that he had an audience. Devon, Len, Tara and a couple of other kids were standing to the side of the room, silently staring at him and Josie.

  ‘Wot is ya looking at?’ growled Tark.

  The kids hastily dispersed, some leaving the room, others getting on with chores.

  ‘Me eye aches,’ said Tark, changing the subject. He rubbed at it. ‘I thoughts ya said there wuz numbing thingies in that needle.’

  Devon walked up to Josie. ‘All good?’

  Josie ran a hand through her unruly hair. ‘Now that we know Tark can get into the Game we can move on to the next step.’

  ‘And wots would that be?’ Tark fumed. Josie and Devon looked at each other and then at Tark.

  ‘We need to send you back into the Game, of course,’ said Josie. ‘This time, with a purpose.’

  ‘Greats!’

  ‘Not straight away,’ assured Josie. ‘Go get some food and rest first.’

  ***

  Tark was back at the trestle table with Devon, staring at another bowl of mush.

  ‘I mixed some orange juice in this time,’ said Devon.

  ‘You’re a real … Ya is a real chef.’

  Devon smirked.

  ‘Wot?’

  ‘It’s not a natural way of speaking,’ said Devon. ‘Probably felt fine inside the Game, but now that you’ve got a real mouth and tongue that hasn’t been programmed, it sounds like it’s actually difficult for you to keep talking like that.’

  Tark scowled and shoved a spoonful of mush into his mouth.

  ‘It’s kind of silly to keep talking like that if you’ve got to concentrate on it.’

  ‘Got any ice-cream?’ asked Tark.

  ‘I wish.’

  Tark dropped the spoon back into the mush.

  ‘So what’s with Josie?’

  ‘She’s our leader,’ answered Devon. ‘Our boss. She got us all together. Got us organised. Found this place.’

  ‘Yeah, but what’s her angle? Why’s she doing all this?’

  ‘Her brother,’ said Devon. ‘She and her brother used to live in an orphanage. Then the Designers showed up, wanting kids. They did these tests, getting them all to play games. And they chose some of the kids. Took them. Josie’s little brother Alex was one of them. And he –’