Tark was a fast runner. He caught up with them and looked back over his shoulder. Green liquid gushed from the hole that hung in the air. Energy scintillated across the surface of the hidden environment, revealing the egg shape above them. The energy built to a crescendo and Tark, throwing himself to the ground, yelled, ‘Down!’
The egg shape distorted as grey static overwhelmed it. With a rush of air and horrid screeching sounds, it disappeared.
Tark rolled over onto his back and stared up into the sky. There was nothing left.
Josie was hugging her brother, hanging on to him with a fiery desperation. Mel was smiling and crying at the same time.
‘Zyra,’ Tark mumbled to himself. Then he stood tall and called, ‘Exit!’
42: Preserving Unreality
Zyra opened her eyes and a blurry face swam into view. At first she thought she was dreaming. Then her eyes focussed and she recognised the face – the clone that had been choking her.
Panic took hold. She tried to scream, but nothing happened. She lashed out with her fists but the clone quickly ducked out of the way.
‘Oi! What was that for?’
‘Tark?’ Zyra croaked.
‘Who else would it be?’
The clone of a psychotic Designer maybe? thought Zyra. She took a slow breath to calm herself.
Tark leaned in and kissed her with a lingering softness.
Our first kiss in the real world, thought Zyra. She didn’t want it to ever end.
But then it was over and Tark was shooed to one side by a medical technician. Zyra tried to protest but all she managed was a rasping cough. That’s when she realised that her throat hurt – a lot!
‘Your throat is quite badly bruised,’ said the medical technician. He waved an instrument with a little ultraviolet light, up and down over her throat.
‘That should help the healing,’ he said, putting the device down on a metal tray. He picked up a needle and syringe.
‘Now I’ll just give you something for the pain.’
‘No!’ Zyra’s voice was hoarse but emphatic. ‘No more needles.’
‘Okay,’ said the technician, putting the syringe down. ‘Up to you.’ He picked up a computer tablet and examined the readout. ‘Well then, that’s about all I can do. My only other recommendation would be to eat some ice-cream. You might find it soothing.’
‘Ice-cream!’ Zyra’s eyes lit up. ‘You have ice-cream in this world?’
‘We certainly do,’ said Robbie, entering the room.
The technician nodded to him, avoiding his eyes, and left quickly, wheeling his tray ahead.
‘I think it’s going to take them a little time to get used to a robot clone being their Designer Prime,’ said Robbie, watching the technician make his hasty departure.
‘I don’t think you were ever a robot,’ said Zyra, sitting up and rubbing at her throat. She coughed, and then winced.
‘I think you’d better shut up,’ said Tark.
Zyra nodded, looking at her surroundings. She was in another white room. This one had a hospital bed, which she was seated on, a couple of chairs and subdued lighting. She realised she was wearing a hospital gown rather than the jumpsuit.
‘What happened?’ Zyra croaked.
Robbie was about to launch into explanations, but Tark got in first. ‘We won! Alpha and Beta have been defeated.’
Robbie glanced at his computer tablet and checked the updates. He wasn’t wearing a jumpsuit anymore, either. He wore a lab coat over slacks and shirt. Zyra decided it suited him.
‘The children are being prepared for release,’ he said. ‘We have new nanobots ready to go, as soon as their replacements have entered the Game.’
Zyra looked horrified.
Robbie held up a hand. ‘Please give me more credit than that. We are not forcing any more children, or anyone else for that matter, into the Game. We have volunteers.’
Right on cue, Hope entered the room. She still wore her jumpsuit, name in black marker on the front.
‘Meet our chief volunteer.’
Zyra stared at Hope and then looked back at Robbie. She raised her hands in a querying gesture.
‘Remember how Designer Beta said there was another solution?’ said Robbie. ‘Well, he became quite talkative when I threatened him with the brain scanning nanobots that Designer Alpha had wanted to use on you.’ He smiled. ‘Not that I would really have used them.’
‘I would’ve!’ Tark piped up.
‘Anyway … it seems that during his years in the containment centre, Designer Beta was keeping himself busy with research. He discovered that the thought patterns of Game entities who had ceased playing –’
‘Outers!’ Hope interjected.
‘Yes, Outers, as you call yourselves,’ said Robbie. ‘He discovered that their thought patterns, the very essence of their sentience, were remarkably similar to the children being used to maintain the Game environments. It was almost as if the Game was somehow using the children to give the Outers their sentience.’
‘So the solution is simple,’ said Hope. ‘Me and the other Outers take the place of the kids. Only we won’t be in any containment centre. We’ll be players!’
‘But you waited all those years …’ Zyra cleared her throat, pushing on even though it hurt to speak. ‘… to get out of the Game.’
‘Don’t really like what I’ve found out here,’ said Hope. ‘Besides, this is our chance to make things right. It is our world, after all. Now we can look after it ourselves.’
‘As Designer Prime, I am instigating some changes.’ Robbie looked quite proud of himself. ‘I am removing the rules. I’m removing the need to quest and play. All Game entities will have the opportunity to develop sentience. There will be no more replacements. I will not be renewing the government contracts that Designer Alpha had initiated. After they lapse, no more people will be going into the Game. It will become self-contained. It will become –’
‘Independent,’ finished Hope. ‘We will do more than maintain things. We’ll set up a government.’ Excitement blazed in Hope’s eyes. ‘You and Tark could join us.’
Zyra opened her mouth to speak, but didn’t say anything. She didn’t know what to say.
‘You don’t have to make your mind up now,’ said Robbie. ‘Rest and recover first.’
‘Good idea,’ agreed Hope. ‘Rest and recover.’ She went to leave, but stopped in the doorway. ‘Thanks,’ she said, without looking back. ‘Mum.’ And then she was off.
Robbie sat down on the bed beside Zyra and took her hand in his. ‘I’m glad you’re okay.’
Zyra immediately looked for Tark and realised that he was no longer in the room. He must have slipped out at some point.
Zyra looked at Robbie, to find him staring intently at her – his eyes wide and weird looking. They seemed sad. She felt like she should say something before the awkward silence stretched any further. She opened her lips but Robbie spoke first.
‘Don’t say anything. You don’t have to. I just want you to know that I care for you a great deal … and that I do not think I would have become truly human, if not for you.’
Robbie started to get up, but Zyra held onto his hand. She raised her other hand and gently ran a finger along the skin where his eyebrows should have been.
‘Can you …’ She left the question hanging.
‘I could,’ he answered. ‘But I am not sure that I will. My appearance is, after all, part of who I am.’
Zyra leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.
Robbie blushed and stood up, just as Tark came back with a tray in his hands. He inclined his head in a little nod to Tark and walked out briskly.
‘What was that all about?’ asked Tark suspiciously.
‘Nothing,’ croaked Zyra.
‘Yeah?’
‘Yeah!’
‘Well, then,’ said Tark, bringing the tray over. ‘Look what I got us.’
Zyra’s eyes lit up. Ice-cream! Two bowls. Three different flavou
rs in each.
‘Thought it might help us think,’ said Tark. ‘We need to decide what we’re going to do.’
Zyra picked up her bowl and took a spoonful of chocolate ice-cream. She closed her eyes and let it melt slowly in her mouth. Then she swallowed, the soothing coolness running down her throat. She opened her eyes to see Tark grinning at her.
She smiled back.
‘I luvs ya, Tark.’
‘I luvs ya too.’
Epilogue
Tark and Zyra held hands while they watched the proceedings.
‘No more random rules imposed upon us by the Designers. No more quests or games within games.’ Hope looked out over the sea of faces, all looking expectantly at her. ‘It is with an eye to the future – our future – and with great pleasure, that I declare the opening of the first Digital World Parliament. And with it, the independence of our virtual world.’
A cheer rose up through the crowd.
‘No regrets?’ asked Zyra.
‘No regrets.’ Tark smiled.
Zyra leaned in and gently kissed Tark on the lips, running a hand along the scar that cut a path through the stubble on his head. Tark pulled her close, his fingers playing with the metal studs in her ear.
As their lips parted they sighed simultaneously. Gazing into each other’s eyes, they spoke in unison.
‘Exit!’
Acknowledgments
No book is created in isolation. There are always people other than the author who have input along the way.
As always, I owe a huge debt of gratitude to my wife, Kerri, for helping me with brainstorming the plot, and then reading and commenting on the drafts. Thanks also go to my daughters, Nykita and Alexandra, for putting up with me while I was writing it.
The publisher of this book and its predecessors, Gamers’ Quest and Gamers’ Challenge, has been a joy to deal with. Particular mention must go to my editor, Beau Hillier, whose insight and suggestions have made this a better book, and to Ford Street Publishing head-honcho Paul Collins for believing in the Gamers series and commissioning each of the instalments.
A big shout-out to fellow Write Club authors Morgan Grant Buchanan and Cecilia Dart-Thornton. Those early morning café writing sessions are what enabled me to finish this book on time!
And of course I can’t write a set of acknowledgments without mentioning Doctor Who for its polarity reversal, isomorphic controls and general inspiration.
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