by Tania Hutley
I need to be the leopard.
For that, I’ll risk everything.
10
I sleep with the blade tucked under my pillow. For the first time in years I don’t have nightmares of desperately searching for William or fighting off evil, faceless men. Instead I dream about running in my Skin, my leopard’s paws moving so fast underneath me that it feels like flying. When I wake, I want nothing more than to go back to my dream.
Then I remember. The leopard isn’t just a dream.
A moment later I’m out of bed and showering. Man, I could get used to having my own bathroom. Not to mention my own bedroom. Do floaters really live like this? Do they know how lucky they are?
But the best part is knowing I’ll get to transfer back into my Skin today. Thinking about it, I find myself singing in the shower.
My band vibrates. I mean, Rayne’s band. Who could be calling? Maybe her mother?
Ma must be calling my band, desperate to get hold of me. Or maybe they’ve told her I’m dead? Just another stabbing in a shelter and in spite of the dead girl’s tanned
skin they wouldn’t have bothered checking her DNA. After all, that’s what the band does so well.
If I’m dead, then Ma only has William left. One child. No taxes.
I turn my face up to the shower jet and close my eyes. I don’t know if I’m crying or if my good eye is stinging because of the force of the water.
Ma’s free.
Why didn’t I think of it before? As hard as it’ll be for her, my death means she can finally live a real life again. Now she can afford to get William back.
It feels like I stand there a long time, letting the hot water pummel my face while my stomach twists into knots. I should be happy for her, so why is my heart pumping lead? Ma’s going to be okay. I have to let her go.
Milla’s dead. I’m Rayne. I have to focus on becoming her. On winning. With five million credits, I could get my family back. Whether I kept Rayne’s name or became Milla again, we could afford to get a house and pay any amount of taxes.
But if I lose the competition, I’ll have to stay dead—at least officially—so Ma can live safely with William. Both scenarios are a million times better than the life we were living.
The only way I can really lose is to get found out. Then I’ll go to prison, and Ma will be worse off than before. Two living kids, and down to just one income. She’d have to work herself to death like Papa did.
I won’t let that happen.
Dressing slowly, I think about taking the blade with me. But I can’t afford to get caught with it. Better to hide it here. The room’s pretty bare, just the bed, a desk and chair, and a closet that the clothes Doctor Gregory gave me don’t come close to filling. The floor’s made out of a smooth imitation wood, and the ceiling doesn’t have any panels I can lift.
Finally, I carry the chair over to the closet, and stand on it to push the blade to the very back of the top shelf. Hopefully it should be safe enough.
When I get to the rec room it’s empty, and cereal is waiting. The others aren’t long in arriving, but by the time they do I’ve already gulped down three full bowls, with a lake of milk and plenty of honey.
Brugan doesn’t so much as look at me when he comes in, so he’s obviously decided to ignore me. Good. I’ll ignore him too, and make sure I’m never alone with him.
Aza complains about the food again, and I roll my eyes when she’s not looking. Cale catches me doing it and grins. I shouldn’t encourage him, he’s way too friendly, but I can’t help smiling back. Maybe it’s because I’ve realized Ma won’t have to work so hard anymore. Or maybe it’s the excitement fizzing inside me, the anticipation of transferring into my Skin. Today I’ll get to be neither Rayne nor Milla, but something far better.
“Good morning.” Doctor Gregory comes in carrying a bag. “How are you all today?”
“The food—” starts Aza.
“We’ve all eaten.” Cale speaks over her. “We’re ready to transfer into our Skins.”
Doctor Gregory swipes at some wisps of hair that have escaped her bun. “Instead of going straight to the training room, we’re going to have a session here, in the vReals.”
So I’m not going to get to transfer into my leopard? I can’t keep my face from falling.
“Don’t worry, you’ll be training in your Skins again this afternoon,” says Doctor Gregory. “But this morning you’ll run through a simulation of the contest.”
It’s what I wanted, to find out about the contest. But I feel sick to my stomach.
“Doctor, I can’t use a vReal. My eye...”
“Oh. Of course.” She looks stumped for a moment, then brightens. “We can wrap your eye to protect it. It won’t be as good as being able to use two eyes, but you’ll get an idea of what you’ll be up against.”
I’ll have a disadvantage compared to the others, but it’s better than nothing.
“The contest is designed to be like the Morelle Corporation’s newest vReal game, Skin Hunter,” she says. “The contest is the game come to life. It’ll be released on the same day of the contest, so people will be able to watch you compete before they play the game themselves.”
My heart sinks. Sounds like I’ll need to learn how to play a vReal game to have any chance at this contest, but I have no idea how my bad eye will react to virtual reality. Will it be like the holo, which it doesn’t cope with at all?
“The game’s been kept secret,” she continues. “Our security’s been tighter than for any other new release. But I’ve got some special advance copies of the game here for you to play.”
The other four whoop for joy. My silence must stand out, because the doctor shoots me a small frown before opening her bag. “Anyone need a suit?”
I’m the only one who puts my hand out for one of the cloth suits she pulls out of her bag. Great. The others all play so many vReal games, they have their own suits.
“Go and get changed, then we’ll get started.”
I finger the thin fabric of the suit and stay where I am.
“Are you all right, Rayne?”
“Um.” I wait until the others have gone before I motion to the vReal units. “I haven’t used one of those things before.”
Doctor Gregory blinks. “Didn’t you work in a factory that made them?”
“I guess someone forgot to install a rec room at the factory.”
It’s supposed to be a joke, but she reddens a little anyway. “Of course. Go and change, then I’ll show you how to play.”
I head back to my room and struggle into the vReal suit, hating the tight fit and the way it clings. I feel totally exposed. Do I really have to leave my room in this thing? Some pro players go naked instead of wearing a suit in the vReal because they think the fabric dulls the signal. Ha! Now I’ve got one on, I don’t see how this suit could block anything.
I crack open the door and peer down the hall. There’s nobody in sight. With any luck the others are already in their units.
I find myself tiptoeing instead of walking normally down the hall, resisting the urge to cover myself with my hands. Dammit, how can people be so casual about these stupid suits? I’ve seen people wear them in public, and not just around the entrance to a gaming room, but even walking down the street, as though they want to be ready to jump into a vReal unit at any second.
When I get to the rec room, three units are upright, and I can see hazy shapes through the semi-transparent outer shells. The vReals look like giant eggs with cables and wires snaking out of them. Cale’s the only one not in his yet. He’s still putting his helmet on.
He turns to look as I walk in and my face goes hot. And when his eyes flick down my body, my heart lurches and my palms go damp. An automatic reaction to danger. In the shelter, a look like that would mean I’d be extra cautious.
Not here, though. I need to calm down. Take a deep breath. Cale’s not likely to be a threat. He’s not the type. Anyway, what would Mr. High Cheekbones want with som
eone like me?
“Here you go, Rayne.” Doctor Gregory holds up a piece of cloth. “It has an anti-magnetic surface that should block the force enough so your eye won’t be damaged.”
By the time she’s finished winding the cloth around my eye, Cale’s a shadow moving inside one of the vReals. I move to the last unit and press the button to slide it open. Inside it’s empty, but once I’m in, it’ll fill with gel. I used to like feeling the stuff at the factory, sticking my hand in as it oozed from the machine that made it. When it moved by itself, I flinched. Though it looked like it should be sticky, it pulled away from my skin as if I repelled it.
Picking up the helmet on the floor of the giant egg, I tug it on, making sure it doesn’t pull the cloth off as it slides over my face. The helmet is connected to the top of the egg by a retracting cable that shortens as I step into the unit.
Once the door shuts, sealing me inside the unit, gel oozes in. This is the bit I’ve been dreading. Theoretically the gel can’t get in my helmet, and I’ll be able to breathe. But what if the cable gets blocked? What if the helmet seal leaks?
“Okay Rayne?” Doctor Gregory’s voice comes through the speaker in my helmet, startling me. “Don’t be afraid to talk normally. It’s perfectly safe.”
“Easy for you to say,” I mutter. The egg’s almost full now, and the gel is lifting me. Though I can see myself rising, I can’t feel any pressure on my body.
I know exactly how a vReal shell is made. I could describe the shape of every mechanical part and how it fits. Plenty of times I’ve imagined how claustrophobic it must be inside the egg-shaped shell, but the feeling of floating surprises me. This must be what weightlessness feels like.
“When you’re comfortable, say Ready. If you say Stop, it’ll switch off and drain so you can get out. Pause by saying the word. It’s simple.”
“Okay.” I take one more deep breath. “Ready.”
My helmet goes dark for a moment, then floods with light. I’m outside and now I’m not wearing a helmet, or even a vReal suit. Instead, a heavy cloak weighs down my shoulders and flutters behind me as I stand on the precipice of a high cliff. A long way below, a wide, flat plain stretches away. The sky looks closer and bluer than I’ve ever seen it.
When I look down, I’m wearing boots. Snow crunches underfoot as I shift my weight. I’ve never seen snow before, and it’s beautiful. The breeze lifts the edge of my cloak, flapping it around my legs. The air is cold against my face.
The wind increases, getting so strong that I need to lean into it.
It’s too strong. It’s going to push me off the cliff.
I twist around and try to grab onto something, but the wind lifts me off my feet. Pain burns through my eye as I fall. Clapping both hands to my face, they smack hard against the invisible helmet. The pain intensifies as the ground rushes toward me.
But I slow just in time and the searing pain eases as I land lightly on the snow-covered ground at the bottom of the cliff. My legs buckle, and I stagger.
What the hell was that? I know it’s just magnetic pulses running through the gel that somehow made me feel like I was falling, but it sure wasn’t my idea of fun. And my face is throbbing.
Now the ground is shaking, an earthquake breaking it apart. Something’s coming up out of the ground. Giant letters. Words. They rise out of the snow and settle like huge boulders. I read, Skin Hunter, before my eye burns with pain again.
The words are breaking apart. They reform themselves into a longer sentence: A Morelle Corporation Multi-Format Event.
“Rayne, are you okay?”
“Pause.” The word comes out panicked.
Everything freezes. Another sharp pain sears through my bad eye and I realize it must be moving by itself. My cybernetic eye’s trying to stare out the back of my head.
“Are you all right?” she demands.
“My eye keeps trying to turn in its socket.”
The doctor lets out an audible sigh. “I was afraid it might. The magnetic field created by the gel is very strong. Even with the wrapping, it’s pulling at the metal components in your eye. Don’t worry, it won’t be strong enough to tear any of your nerves or tendons that hold the eye in place.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
Dragging in a breath, I try to calm my racing heart. “I fell off a cliff.”
She chuckles. “I should have warned you. It’s like the opening credits of a movie. Very dramatic, I know. But soon you’ll find yourself in the arena that’ll look exactly like when you play the game for real. From then on, everything will obey the laws of physics, I promise.”
I take another deep breath. Though I’m not a fan of the vReal, I need to keep playing. Still, when I think of another question for Doctor Gregory, I know I’m only asking to give myself a few more seconds before starting it back up. After all, I’m going to find out the answer for myself soon enough.
“This game is called Skin Hunter, right?” I ask.
“That’s right.”
“What are we going to be hunting?”
She hesitates. I hear nothing but silence for a long moment. Then she says, “I’m sorry Rayne, but you’ve asked the wrong question. It’s not what you’ll be hunting. The question is, what will be hunting you?”
11
“Ready.”
I’m back where I was, at the base of the cliff. For a moment the letters are still frozen, then they fly at me like shrapnel. I don’t move, don’t even flinch. Sure enough, they miss me by a hair’s breath, so close I feel the wind against my cheeks as they fly past.
“Please choose your Skin,” says a woman’s voice in my ear. It’s not Doctor Gregory’s voice, so it must be part of the game.
Five Skins appear on the snowy plain in front of me. The virtual reality versions look just like they do in real life. My leopard’s so beautiful, I can’t believe anyone would want to choose any of the others.
Sentin’s reptile steps forward. No, not that one. I lift my hand and make a swiping motion. It steps back and Brugan’s Skin steps forward. I swipe again and my leopard steps forward, which must mean it’s selected. But how do I choose it?
Feeling foolish, I walk toward it, first pointing, then making random hand gestures. Something I do works, because my leopard comes to meet me. When it’s close enough, it leaps as though it’s going to land on me, but instead of hitting me it melts away and I feel myself change. Now I have four paws instead of two feet. I can even feel my tail.
But it’s nothing like being inside my real Skin. I don’t have that amazing feeling like I’m fast and strong, and all my senses are turned up to full power.
My bad eye’s twisting in its socket, shooting pain though my head. Looking with just my good eye means I can’t see anything on my left side, and it’s hard to judge distance. Yeah, I’m still just me. No matter how much I wish I wasn’t.
The woman’s voice again: “Are you ready to play Skin Hunter?”
I don’t need to reply. The ground’s already shifting under my paws, changing from snow into stone paving. I thought Doctor Gregory said the game would obey the laws of physics?
It’s not just the ground that’s changing. Everything’s fading and becoming something else. It’s like I’m underwater for a moment, then when the world goes solid I find myself at the bottom of a circular arena that’s so tall it seems to go up forever. The sides of the arena are lined with countless levels of seats, all the way to the top. All the seats are full of people. Thousands upon thousands of spectators.
I know where I am. I heard about this arena when the Morelle Corporation built it, but this is the first time I’ve been inside it. The floor of the stadium is in Old Triton, and it rises through New Triton and up into the sky, going up a hundred and sixty stories. It’s an incredible sight. What did the ads say? An arena symbolic of our vertical city. It brings old and new together in one structure, uniting both layers of Triton.
Amazingly enough, the real th
ing lives up to the hype.
Inside the arena, the space is mostly filled with an enormous metal frame, as tall as a scraper. It’s a single building that looks like it goes all the way to the top of the arena. The structure is tapered, so the top is narrow while the base is wide. It has no solid walls, only beams and platforms that crisscross in complicated patterns. It reminds me of the Eiffel Tower, the most famous of the buildings that are now rusting and crumbling in the dead zone.
Craning my head back to see the top of the tower, its height makes me dizzy. Are we supposed to climb it?
That must be why there’s a climbing wall in our training room.
Is the contest a race to the top? Good thing I’m not afraid of heights. If this is a climbing race, Aza’s wings will give her an advantage. Brugan’s Skin looks heavy and his muscles might slow him down. I have no idea how well my leopard can climb, but I guess I’m about to find out.
As I pad closer to the tower, the crowd roars. I flinch, tilting my chin down to hide my scarred face from thousands of eyes.
Except I’m a leopard, and my face isn’t scarred. Not to mention that this isn’t even real.
Shaking my head at myself, I head for one of the tower’s thick legs.
The structure has levels, like a normal building. But where each floor should be is just a framework of beams. The first level would be too high off the ground for a person to leap up to. But a leopard? Easy.
I spring up to the first beam and pace, claws clacking, along the length of metal. The tower looks even bigger once I’m inside it. I can barely see the far side, both because of the distance, and because my view is blocked by interspersed diagonal struts at steep angles that run up to the tower’s next level. The horizontal beams on this level have such wide gaps between them that they’ll be tricky to navigate. Basically, there’s a lot of empty space for falling through.
Still, if this what the contest will be like, it’s not as hard as I’d feared. Man, I really hope this is all I’ll have to do. Racing up this tower should be easy once I’m in my actual Skin. I might even win a race to the top, even against Aza.
